‘Tell me. Tell me now or I will arrest you for conspiracy to pervert -’
‘Whittaker downloaded the interview.’
‘But he was on leave that day.’
‘I saw him. I went into the office. Because of the strike there was no one about. But Whittaker was there. By himself. He said he’d been going over the case material and when I looked later he’d downloaded the interview. I didn’t think anything of it. He’s in charge, so why not? But when I found out later that you were asking for people’s movements, I realized that Whittaker had made a mistake. Got his days mixed up. I went to see him. I didn’t want him to cop any flak for a simple mistake.’
‘You were currying favour.’
‘Sort of. Whittaker liked me, saw a future for me. So I just mentioned it – better safe than sorry, you know. Well he didn’t like it. Not at all. Said I was mistaken, but I knew I wasn’t.’
He paused, scared of saying any more.
‘Go on. What happened next?’
‘He said he could destroy my career with one phone call. That I didn’t understand what I was getting involved with. We… he decided there and then that I was to be transferred back to London as soon as possible. I guess it was him that let the cat out of the bag about the strike. As a reason for my departure. He told me that you knew all this. That it was your idea.’
Anger flared in Helen, then she reined it back in sharply. She must keep calm, keep focused. Was this all for real?
‘He said I was involved?’
‘Yes, that you were handling it, so there was no point saying anything to you.’
‘What did you do next?’
‘I tried to carry on but I couldn’t keep it going, not with the lads on my back as well. So I signed off sick. Been hiding out here ever since, biding my time until my transfer…’
He tailed off as the reality of his situation hit him. For the first time that day, Helen was conciliatory.
‘This doesn’t have to end badly, Simon. If what you’ve told me today is true, then I can make this right for you. You can take the transfer, learn your lesson and start over again without a blemish on your record. You can do the things you were meant to do, achieve what you want to achieve.’
Ashworth looked up, disbelief jostling with hope.
‘But I need you to do one thing for me in return. You are going to come to my flat now. And when you get there you are going to write a statement, putting down everything you’ve just told me. Then you are going to wait. You are not going to answer your phone, or make any calls. You’re not going to mail, text or tweet. You are going to sit still and quiet and the rest of the world need never know we’ve spoken, until I say the time is right. Is that understood?’