It began with a short email from a stranger asking for help and it ended six years later with a violent fraudster and rapist being jailed for 12 years – thanks to an incredible group of women and their fight for justice.

It was 2017 and I was working as a newspaper reporter when I got the email from a woman who detailed how she had met a man named Christopher Harkins on Tinder and he had stolen £3,247 from her.

Lisa, who is using a pseudonym because she doesn’t want to be linked to this story forever, explained that Harkins had lovebombed her, suggested they go on holiday together and then, when she transferred the money, went quiet.

It quickly transpired the holiday wasn’t real and Harkins would not refund the cash.

Lisa was afraid Harkins would go on to scam someone else. It didn’t occur to Lisa – or to me – that it was a scam he had already honed with experience.

Lisa had gone to Police Scotland for help and been told the issue was a civil matter.

Frustrated, but determined, now she wanted to protect other people by exposing this man in the press.

We spoke on the phone and she laid out the situation, how he’d overwhelmed her with attention, had been the perfect gentleman. And how things had quickly changed when he decided to push her for money.

Lisa, a smart, impressive, professional woman in her 30s, provided screenshots of WhatsApp conversations and bank account details.

It was clear very quickly that this man was a master manipulator but it wasn’t until I spoke to him on the phone that I realised how skilled he was at the practice.

Tracking him down was the hard part.

Lisa had told Harkins that she had spoken to a journalist and he was, let’s say, unimpressed.

He promised repeatedly to give her the money back if she put a stop to the story – but didn’t actually make a move to return the cash.

When I called him – on the two numbers I had for him – he didn’t reply.

Lisa’s story was credible, and she had hard evidence, but we wanted to speak to Harkins to hear his side.

Suddenly, Lisa was in touch to say Harkins had agreed to return her money. She was to meet him at a chip shop on the south side of Glasgow.

I went with her, waiting outside with a photographer to try to speak to Harkins.

The money was there in an envelope. There was no sign of him though.

We decided to publish the story, having tried all we could to track him down. And then my phone rang. It was Harkins.

Speaking to him was a baffling experience. It was hard to keep him on track.

He would state one thing and then, when challenged, very quickly change his position.

He tried to persuade me that Lisa was threatening him and he was frightened of her.

Harkins had had his chance to have his say – and we published the story.

Within the hour of the article going online I had an email from another woman claiming to have been targeted by Harkins. And then another.

My phone started ringing. I could tell as soon as I picked it up that this would be another Harkins target – he clearly had a type: smart and articulate.

Lisa, who I was updating all the time, was appalled. Neither of us had any idea how prolific he might have been.

Some women wanted to tell their stories publicly while others just wanted an outlet to share what had happened to them.

I heard stories of fraud, of manipulation, of verbal abuse – and worse.

One caller was a man who had known Harkins in his early 20s and warned me to be careful.

He claimed to have known Harkins to be physically violent and wanted me to know what I was dealing with.

We ran a second story in the paper.

This was another woman who had been conned by the holiday scam – this time in England. Harkins, in turned out, had been operating across the country.

She lost £1,600 to the fake holiday con and had also been pressured to take out loans for him, which luckily she didn’t do.

More than 20 women had contacted me by now and I had interviewed several who wanted to go public, hearing dreadful stories of fraud but also physical and sexual violence.

Many had gone to the police only to be told – as Lisa had been – that this was a civil matter.

Then, Police Scotland contacted me. They said that they were going to investigate and could we please stop writing about Harkins so as not to tip him off to how much was known about him.

Not wanting to jeopardise any case, we agreed.

Women I had interviewed were contacted by Police Scotland and several decided to make formal complaints.

They knew it was going to be a long and gruelling process – but they wanted this man taken off the streets.

Months passed and the wait for the women was intensely stressful.

Finally, in December 2019, he was arrested. We all thought this was the beginning of the end and the women relaxed a little.

In early 2020 my phone rang. It was a woman in London.

This woman said that she had stayed with Harkins in a five-star hotel in an upmarket part of the city.

A receptionist at the hotel had taken her aside and told her the man she was with was using a false name, was in fact called Christopher Harkins and she should Google him.

The woman told me she found my articles online and read them, with increasing horror.

I listened with my heart in my mouth as she told me she went back to their room, where Harkins was still asleep, and took his wallet from his bag.

His bank card said Christopher Harkins. She took her belongings and left.

Knowing, at that time, what I knew about Harkins’ other behaviour, which wasn’t in the public domain, I had such an overwhelming feeling of relief that he hadn’t woken up.

He scammed another woman in London, and she went to the Metropolitan Police, who acted quickly.

He was convicted and jailed, which was both a relief to the women in Scotland and a frustration.

The English proceedings meant the impending trial in Scotland would be delayed. Again.

Just before Harkins was imprisoned in England he called my editor to complain that I was orchestrating a campaign against him because I was obsessed with him. That took a bit of explaining.

The delays were intensely stressful to the women involved in the case but they were determined to see it through.

Their bravery and solidarity was incredible to witness.

When the case called at the High Court in Paisley last year I attended every day of court.

Harkins by now was a diminished figure. I’d seen him years before in the High Court in Glasgow and he had been a muscular, imposing man.

Now he was thinner, his court suit too big. He was a man obsessed by appearance and I can only think his baggy shirts and mismatched shoes and trousers caused him stress.

Harkins was found guilty of 19 offences including rape, assault, recording an intimate video without consent, threatening and abusive behaviour and four other sexual offences.

He also admitted defrauding nine women out of more than £214,000.

In July last year Harkins was sentenced to 12 years in prison. As he was handcuffed to be led to the cells, he turned to look at me in the gallery.

“This is because of you,” he said. No. This was because of the women who were brave enough to stand up to him.

If there is anything to be taken from story of Christopher Harkins, it is the determination of these women and the way they held their nerve for years, standing together as a force Harkins that, in the end, could not reckon with.