‘We all say stuff like that in job interviews.’ He remained staring at his shoes.
‘What happened?’
A long silence. Then:
‘I had a change of heart. I hadn’t really settled in Southampton, didn’t have any friends to speak of and then… when the lads started to cut me out because I wasn’t a union stooge, I thought I’m better off out of it.’
‘Except you put in your transfer request before the other lads found out about your betrayal of the cause. The others were very clear about this. It was at a departmental piss-up in the Lamb and Flag on the eighteenth that you were forced to admit that you’d broken the strike. You applied to return to your old job on the sixteenth.’
‘They must be mistaken…’
‘There were several witnesses to the conversation in the pub. They can’t all be lying.’
A longer silence.
‘The truth is… The truth is that I just don’t like it here. I don’t like the people, I don’t like the job. I want out.’
‘That’s curious, Simon. Because at your three-month appraisal, you’d said how happy you were. How you were loving the increased responsibility. And you got top marks for your work, even the hint that you’d be fitted for promotion if you kept it up for a year or more. I’ve got a copy of your appraisal here if you’d like to read it.’
Helen offered it to him, but Ashworth said nothing. The guy looked deeply, deeply miserable. Which made Helen happy. The cracks were beginning to show. She decided to put the boot in.
‘You’ve done the police training, Simon, so I’m not going to patronize you by spelling out what the effects could be for your career if you’re forced to admit to lying to a police officer who’s pursuing a murder investigation. If you’re forced to admit taking payment to leak confidential police material.’
Ashworth sat stock still, but his hands were shaking.
‘Your career would be over. Finished. And I know how important it is to you.’
Helen softened her tone now.
‘I know you’re a gifted guy, Simon. I know you could go places. But if you lie to me now, I will destroy you. There’ll be no way back.’
Ashworth’s shoulders hunched and began to shake. Was he crying?
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Because I need to know the truth. Did you leak the interview to Mickery? And if so, why? I can only help you if you help me.’
A long pause, then:
‘I thought you knew.’
His voice was strangulated, cracked.
‘He told me you knew.’
‘Who told you?’
‘Whittaker.’
Whittaker. The word hung in the air, but Helen still didn’t quite believe it.
‘What did he tell you? What should I have known?’
Ashworth shook his head, but Helen wasn’t about to let this go.