It was a relaxed evening at home in Dunblane, near Stirling, a few days before the turn of the year. The Dowey family – Ros, Mark and their three sons – were watching television when talk turned to plans for the new year. Murray, 16 years old and their middle boy, chatted about saving up for a holiday to Marbella he was planning with his friends that summer. At about half past nine, he went up to his bedroom. It was the last time his family saw him alive. The next morning, Ros was preparing for a visit to friends in Glasgow. “I saw that Murray’s door was ajar with the light on,” she says. “I walked in and said ‘Are you up?’ and found him there.” Mark was downstairs watching the football when he heard “this crazy, crazy screaming”. He shudders at the recollection. In the couple of hours since he had gone to bed, Muzz – as his family knew him – had taken his own life. It took the police two weeks to gain access to Murray’s phone, and discover the truth – two weeks of “questioning every interaction”, says Ros, “trying to understand what we’d missed, how that happy boy who’d gone to bed that night was dead”. Neither Murray himself, nor anyone close to him, had ever expressed any concerns about his mental health. Police Scotland told the Doweys there was evidence that, on the night he died, Murray was targeted by criminals involved in financially motivated sexual extortion – commonly known as “sextortion”. It is a crime that agencies across the UK, US and Australia confirm is rising sharply with teenage boys and young adult males typically the victims of loosely organised cyber-criminal gangs often based in west Africa or south-east Asia. The extortion formula is simple, with scripts and detailed “how-to” guides shared online, and often brutally effective. “He was duped into thinking he was talking to a young girl,” Ros explains, “and she had an intimate picture with her. As soon as shared his own, it became very clear it wasn’t a young girl he was speaking to, it was criminals who immediately started to extort him, asking for card details and threatening to share his picture with all his contacts.” The effect on Murray would have been catastrophic, says his mother. “He was very private and hated being the centre of attention.” She describes the “frenzied panic” he must have felt: “That’s why they target teenagers, because they don’t have the life experience to understand it will pass.” Murray was clever and street-smart, says his dad, not glued to his phone, and, if anything, slightly dismissive of social media. An open family, they had discussed the dangers of sharing photos and messaging strangers “and yet he still fell for it. It can happen to any child.” Ros and Mark reflect on Murray’s self-containment and it is clear that they likewise do not relish public attention. But they have chosen to speak to the Guardian and one national television broadcaster. “We are doing it for Murray”, says Mark simply. “We want young people as far as your readership goes across the world to get the idea that this is insidious – it comes into your home.” “We were six feet away when this was happening. He just needed to come through to our bedroom. So it’s about putting the phone down, walking away, saying to someone else, ‘This has happened, what the hell do I do?’ Murray didn’t do that and we lost him.” They describe their “lovely boy” as bright, funny, sociable, passionate about his guitar and his football team, Stirling Albion. He loved hip-hop – Kid Cudi, Lil Yachty and Benzz were on his funeral playlist – and camping with his tight-knit group of pals up at the local reservoir. His friends are devastated. Dunblane high school delayed their prelim exams when they returned to class in January after Murray’s death, and while the school immediately addressed the wider issue with pupils, Ros would like to see more concerted awareness-raising across the education sector. “It can’t be a soft message and it needs to happen now. This is growing exponentially and young people are dying.” International data bears this out. The FBI has recorded a tenfold increase in the number of cases since 2021 and more than a dozen related deaths. In August 2023, two Nigerian men were extradited to the US to face charges relating to online extortion and their part in the suicide of Michigan 17-year-old Jordan DeMay. Earlier this month, police in New South Wales, Australia revealed a near-400% increase over the past two years as they announced that two different men had been charged in Nigeria over the alleged sexual extortion of a 16-year-old Australian boy who took his own life last year. UK campaigners highlight Report Remove, an online tool for under-18s developed by the Internet Watch Foundation and Childline, which allows them to report anonymously any image or video, which will then be placed on a watchlist used by all the main social media players. But these platforms must themselves make it easier for young people to get help, say Murray’s parents. Mark believes children’s contacts should be private by default, thus depriving scammers of the pressure point of sharing intimate details. Ros believes regulation is key. “Social media platforms are making billions and have complete free rein to do what they want – some of which is causing young people to die – with no consequence.” Police Scotland is understood to be working with authorities in Nigeria as their inquiries continue, and the other international prosecutions give the Doweys some hope of justice for their son. Ros is unequivocal: “There has to be a really clear message to these perpetrators that you think you’re anonymous and thousands of miles away but these countries will come after you. Not only to punish them, but to deter others from thinking it’s easy cash and it doesn’t matter what happens to the victims.” “I don’t want any other family to go through this,” she adds. “We were just a normal family … a completely normal, happy, loving family,” – and the horror and the pointlessness of Murray’s loss feel close by. “Then your life is absolutely shattered in the space of a few hours.”