CNN reports that telephone scams now use artificial intelligence to recreate the voice of a loved one who is in desperate trouble and needs help or ransom money right away. In this example, a mother gets a call from what sounds like her daughter, who has been kidnapped, and the gruff voice of a man demanding $1 million to ransom her. It’s a scam, but sometimes it works. If you get a call like this, don’t fall for it. Call your child, call the police, record the call.

The Boston Globe reported on a scam that has become commonplace. An elderly person gets a call from someone with a youthful voice who says, “Grandma, I’m in trouble. I rented a car and ran a red light. I crashed into a car driven by a pregnant woman. I’m in jail, and I need money to make bail. Please help me.”

This happened to a 93-year-old woman in Massachusetts. She rushed to the bank, withdrew $9,500, spoke to a smooth-talking man who claimed to be a lawyer, and handed the money over to a LYFT driver.

I mention this because I received the same scam call. A young man called, claiming to be my grandson. He was in a car accident, he said. It was his fault. He needed money right away for bail. He gave me the badge number and telephone number of the arresting officer. I asked if he had called his mother. He said he couldn’t reach her. I hung up, called his mother, and she said the grandson in question was in his dorm, preparing for finals. I didn’t fall for the scam.

But this grandmother did.

Last month, a 93-year-old grandmother from Pembroke took a call from someone she thought was her granddaughter Abby. Through sobs, Abby begged for money to get out of jail.

Yes, it was a scam, and the grandmother ― who asked that her name not be used for fear of being targeted by other scammers ― fell for it.

The scammers used a somewhat elaborate ruse that included having “Abby’s lawyer” come on the phone to matter-of-factly explain the necessary steps to secure her release.

It was a cruel and wicked exploitation of a grandmother’s love and concern, perpetrated by slick con artists who have no decency.

But the grandmother and her family said they were also upset that Bank of America, from which she hurriedly withdrew $9,500 in cash, did nothing to stop her from throwing away thousands of dollars.

The family also wondered about Lyft, the ridesharing giant, which picked up the cash and delivered it to the scammers, apparently unwittingly.

The family contacted me to call attention to the roles played by two of the country’s biggest corporations and to warn other elders and their families to be on guard, they said.

When the grandmother answered the phone in her home on the morning of Feb. 25 she was stunned to hear a hysterical “Abby” pleading for help.

Here’s what happened:

“Grandma, you got to help,” the voice said. It sounded like Abby, who is in her early 20s. She grew up nearby and spent plenty of time with her grandmother.

She told “Grandma” she was accused of texting while driving and causing an accident in which the pregnant driver of the other car was hurt and taken to the hospital. “Abby” insisted it wasn’t her fault and told “Grandma” she broke her nose in the accident.

“Abby” swore her grandmother and grandfather (he’s 96) to secrecy before putting someone purporting to be her lawyer on the phone. He told her, among other things, that the money was “fully refundable.”

The grandmother hurried off alone to a Bank of America branch office in nearby Marshfield, where she regularly does her banking, feeling anxious and afraid.

At the teller’s window, she showed her driver’s license and presented a check made out to cash. Very few words were exchanged before the teller put a small stack of bills into a white envelope and slid it to the grandmother.

The grandmother was so preoccupied with her mission that she left the bank without counting the money or even looking in the envelope, she said.

Back home, she called the telephone number the phony lawyer had given her. He instructed her to find a small box into which to put the envelope.

The “lawyer” told the grandmother someone would come to her house to pick up the box and gave her the license plate number, make, and model of the car.

A few minutes later, the “lawyer,” still speaking in a reassuring voice on the phone, told her to bring the package to the driver. The driver said little before driving away with it.

About 30 minutes later, the “lawyer” called again and told the grandmother he had bad news: The pregnant woman’s baby had died and Abby was now charged with manslaughter. He needed $9,000 more to get her released.

That’s when she told her son, who happened to be visiting, what was happening. He spoke with the “lawyer,” whom he described as sounding “unbelievably calm and professional.” The “lawyer” told the son the name of the jail where Abby was supposedly being held.

The son hung up and called his niece. She answered. The jig was up.

The son called back the “lawyer.” The call went dead. (I called the same number several times but kept getting a fast busy signal.) The son gave the police the license plate number given to the grandmother. Police said the pickup was made by a Lyft driver.

The reporter for the Globe, Sean P. Murphy, was able to persuade Bank of America to refund the woman’s payout. The scammer got away with it.