Fraud in the Ancient Triangle

After Sigiriya, Jen, Megan, and I officially had beef with the World Heritage Association. However, our visit to the ruins of Polonnaruwa left us with a satisfying revenge.
No sooner had we showered off the sweat of our three hour bus ride than we were approached by a balding business man on the deck of our hotel. We were enjoying a pot of black tea and small talk before he got to the real point of his introduction.

"Ok, you want to see the ruins yes?" he lowered his voice, which was how I knew he had gotten to the point. He glanced over both shoulders before continuing.
"Ok, you go to gate, they charge you 3,000 rupees ($25) and for tuk-tuk driver it is extra 500 ($5). You come with me I only charge you $20 for ticket and tuk-tuk."

We had previously heard rumors of these kinds of deals from other travelers, so, excited to save a whole $10 each, we agreed to be ready in one hour.
Before the tuk-tuk driver even arrived, we had already been introduced to a whole other group of somewhat shady people: the chubby hotel cook who loved coconut rum, the owner who came back and forth from the bus station dropping of tourist like postal packages, and a waiter, who spoke no English but his eyes said everything we would ever want to know.
When our balding business man returned with the tuk-tuk, he said hello, then began yelling into our room as we grabbed our cameras and purses.
"Hurry, now, now, now" he made big windmills with one arm to usher us out the door. "The guard goes home at 2 pm, you must get there before that."
Uh, ok, we thought and pulled into the rickshaw as he waved us off. After a short drive down the main highway, our silent but steady driver suddenly jerked off the main road and began offroading down a dirt path filled with potholes and overhanging tree branches. A while later, we burst through a hedge of bushes and came out on what appeared to be the main road again. He screeched to a stop and pointed us toward a clearing.
"Go there, then come back here" he handed us three already torn tickets.
"Uh, ok." Our standard response to this whole procedure. We meandered through the trees and monkeys admiring the large Buddhas carved from stone before coming out on the other side.
"Hello my friends!!" Our balding businessman had reappeared and coming towards us with open arms. "How you like the Buddhas?"
Before we could answer, he reached us and immediately began in a low whisper again. "Ok, you can't go straight through there they ask for tickets, you must go this way through the trees, more ruins, but don't go straight, go through trees, more ruins, then driver meet you at other side." His big white eyes made contact to ensure we understood him. "Ok?"

It was in that moment that I realize what exactly was going on. It was a scam large enough to waken the sleeping auditor within me. The balding business man and several staff at the site were in coercion, bringing in tourists for a lessor price, and no doubt, splitting the profits. We learned later from another traveler that if you already had bought legit tickets, they would drive you around the ruins for free if you gave them your ticket stubs in the end. Hmmm, my auditor brainwaves began bleeping again. This place had a definite weakness in internal controls. I knew exactly what kind of substantive testing could catch the fraud. And now, instead of being part of the solution as I was in my past career, I was part of the problem. How disappointed my former firm partner would be with me. I wondered if this could get my license revoked.
I started laughing in a way that only a former (or current) auditor could laugh. People are smart. They see loopholes where they have something to gain. I was somewhat comforted that at least the money coming from the fraudulent activity was being used to meet the basic needs of an extremely impoverished society...instead of a superintendent's weekend in Miami with his mistress.
We laughed our way through the rest of the breathtaking ruins of Polonnaruwa, our balding business man reappearing suddenly around every turn to protect his investment. He also showed up later at the ATM and internet cafe, probably making sure we weren't leaking information to the wrong people.
I asked him later that night whether he was afraid of getting in trouble. He looked very concerned at this question. "No" a pause "No. You see, I have friends." He pulled out his cell phone and showed me the desktop picture of himself and three men in suits.
"Who are they?"
"That's the president!" He said proudly. "So everything ok." He burst into a loud laugh shaking his head. "In trouble?! Ha!"
Knows the president, huh? Now I see how the scam had been functioning so well: Management override.