‘I see. Well I’m sure you’ll hear a lot about him soon enough.’
‘Is he in trouble?’ Rachel put on a pair of glasses and picked up a brown leather-bound notepad from underneath the coffee table and began to write notes.
‘He was what they call ‘catfished’ by a local gang. They call themselves The Predator Hunters.’
‘I see.’ Rachel lowered her head, losing eye contact with her client. A churning sat uncomfortably in her stomach. ‘When did this happen?’
‘It was back in April. They chatted to him online. He talked to what he believed was an eleven-year-old girl and went to meet her. They cornered him and he’s since been plastered all over social media. His name is mud around here.’
‘Mrs Irvine, I’m not a defence lawyer.’ Rachel replaced the cap on her pen and put down her notebook. ‘I’d happily recommend someone more suitable to represent your son…’
‘I need you. It’s not a defence strategy that we need. Nobody’s charging my son.’
‘They’re not?’ She scratched her chin and pursed her red lips.
‘No. Charlie is dead,’ Karen replied matter-of-factly. Silence hovered in the air like a nasty smell.
‘Oh.’ Rachel tilted her head and mused over Karen’s pain. The bags beneath her eyes drooped like a flag in a windless sky.
‘He ran in front of a lorry.’
Rachel wasn’t surprised. She was aware of these vigilante groups and their targets, they had a similar network in Warrington. Those that managed to escape the law couldn’t escape the shame and ultimately ended their lives.
‘What is that you want, Karen?’ Rachel asked with an arched eyebrow. She lowered her black circular designer glasses to the edge of her nose and stared curiously at her client.
‘I want to get those bastards… and justice for my son,’ Karen replied with a raised voice. Rachel admired her transition from a timid badger to a feisty shark.
‘On what grounds?’ Rachel crossed her legs and gave her client a sceptical stare.
‘I don’t know. I need your help with that. But there must be something we can get them on?’
The lawyer sighed. She scratched her head as she considered the possibilities but nothing came to mind. But it wasn’t necessarily the lack of lawsuit that bothered her.
‘Ms Irvine. I’m so sorry this has happened to you.’ Rachel sighed as she empathised the ‘you’. ‘But I don’t think we have an angle here. Even if I did believe there was a way that we could somehow fight this, I’m trying to build a reputation around here and I don’t think representing a paedophile is going to help that.’
‘He’s not a paedophile!’ Karen barked. Rachel’s head flung back and her eyes widened.
‘Well maybe not in your eyes, Ms Irvine, but you’ve got to admit, this doesn’t look good.’
‘He was catfished. He didn’t know what he was doing.’ Karen’s eyes were pleadingly moist like an orphaned child on a Christmas charity advert.
‘How old was Charlie?’ Rachel stroked her chin.
‘Nineteen. Why?’
‘Then he was old enough to know better than to message young girls on the internet. Especially eleven-year-olds. What was he thinking?’
‘That’s the thing, he didn’t know better.’ A tear sprung from Karen’s eye down her cheek, which was blemished with exhaustion. ‘You see, Charlie had a development disorder. He was an innocent soul. Very child-like. He couldn’t work. He sat at home all day on his computer games. No friends ever came over. He had no one to talk to, until these chat rooms became available. Suddenly he found people to engage with. He was happy. Or what only I could describe as happy. Emotion wasn’t something we saw a lot of from him. But it kept him occupied and he seemed content.’
‘I see. What did the police have to say about the matter, Ms Irvine?’
‘They didn’t have anything to say. They didn’t really care. As far as they’re concerned, The Predator Hunters are doing a great job of keeping this town free from monsters. And when Charlie died, there was nothing more to pursue. He ran out in front of a vehicle. It was declared as straight-out suicide and in their eyes, justice had prevailed. There was no investigation into Charlie or the vigilante gang. I offered up his computer and his medical records, but they said there was no case to defend. Charlie was dead. End of.’
‘Ms Irvine, I’d love to help you. I really would. But I really can’t see how I can. And for your own sake, I feel you should let this go as what are you really going to get out of this?’
‘Justice for my son!’ Karen bellowed. ‘He’s innocent and I want his legacy to be restored. It breaks my heart. I hear them everywhere talking about him. In the local café, down the pub. People turn and look at me with this look of disgust. I need this town to know the real Charlie and how this isn’t him. And the only way I can do that is to prove his innocence. They took advantage of this very vulnerable person.’
Karen lifted her pistachio leather handbag. On first glance, the bag appeared to be branded. One of those designer names even Rachel struggled to afford back when she was on the big bucks. But following a closer inspection, she could see the cheap cuts and the shoddy stitching inside. It was clearly purchased off a backstreet market or by a beach in a Spanish resort. Out of the counterfeit, she lifted a newspaper cutting filled with her son’s shame and handed it to the lawyer, who read over the details.
‘As a parent, I’m sure you want
