Anthrax took offence. 'The motivation for me doing it wasn't to b.u.g.g.e.r up Telecom.'

s.e.xton backpedalled. 'Perhaps ... probably a poor choice of words.'

He began pressing forward on the subject of hacking, something the police had not said they were going to be discussing. Anthrax felt a little unnerved, even rattled.

Day asked if Anthrax wanted a break.

'No,' he answered. 'I just want to get it over and done with, if that's OK. I'm not going to lie. I'm not going to say "no comment".

I'm going to admit to everything 'cause, based on what I have been told, it's in my best interest to do so.'

The police paused. They didn't seem to like that last comment much.

Day tried to clear things up.

'Before we go any further, based on what you have been told, it is in your best interests to tell the truth. Was it any member of the AFP that told you this?'

'Yes.'

'Who?' Day threw the question out quickly.

Anthrax couldn't remember their names. 'The ones who came to my house.

I think Andrew also said it to me,' he said, nodding in the direction of the red-headed constable.

Why were the cops getting so uncomfortable all of a sudden? It was no secret that they had told both Anthrax and his mother repeatedly that it was in his best interest to agree to an interview.

Day leaned forward, peered at Anthrax and asked, 'What did you interpret that to mean?'

'That if I don't tell the truth, if I say "no comment" and don't cooperate, that it is going to be ... it will mean that you will go after me with ...' Anthrax grasped for the right words, but he felt tongue-tied, 'with ... more force, I guess.'

Both officers stiffened visibly.

Day came back again. 'Do you feel that an unfair inducement has been placed on you as a result of that?'

'In what sense?' The question was genuine.

'You have made the comment and it has now been recorded and I have to clear it up. Do you feel like, that a deal has been offered to you at any stage?'

A deal? Anthrax thought about it. It wasn't a deal as in 'Talk to us now and we will make sure you don't go to jail'. Or 'Talk now and we won't beat you with a rubber hose'.

'No,' he answered.

'Do you feel that as a result of that being said that you have been pressured to come forward today and tell the truth?'

Ah, that sort of deal. Well, of course.

'Yes, I have been pressured,' Anthrax answered. The two police officers looked stunned. Anthrax paused, concerned about the growing feeling of disapproval in the room. 'Indirectly,' he added quickly, almost apologetically.

For a brief moment, Anthrax just didn't care. About the police. About his father. About the pressure. He would tell the truth. He decided to explain the situation as he saw it.

'Because since they came to my house, they emphasised the fact that if I didn't come for an interview, that they would then charge my mother and, as my mother is very sick, I am not prepared to put her through that.'

The police looked at each other. The shock waves reverberated around the room. The AFP clearly hadn't bargained on this coming out in the interview tape. But what he said about his mother being threatened was the truth, so let it be on the record with everything else.

Ken Day caught his breath, 'So you are saying that you have now been ...' he cut himself off ... 'that you are not here voluntarily?'

Anthrax thought about it. What did 'voluntarily' mean? The police didn't cuff him to a chair and tell him he couldn't leave until he talked. They didn't beat him around the head with a baton. They offered him a choice: talk or inflict the police on his ailing mother.

Not a palatable choice, but a choice nonetheless. He chose to talk to protect his mother.

'I am here voluntarily,' he answered.

'That is not what you have said. What you have just said is that pressure has been placed on you and that you have had to come in here and answer the questions. Otherwise certain actions would take place. That does not mean you are here voluntarily.'

The police must have realised they were on very thin ice and Anthrax felt pressure growing in the room. The cops pushed. His father did not looked pleased.

'I was going to come anyway,' Anthrax answered, again almost apologetically. Walk the tightrope, he thought. Don't get them too mad or they will charge my mother. 'You can talk to the people who carried out the warrant. All along, I said to them I would come in for an interview. Whatever my motivations are, I don't think should matter. I am going to tell you the truth.'

'It does matter,' Day responded, 'because at the beginning of the interview it was stated--do you agree--that you have come in here voluntarily?'

'I have. No-one has forced me.'

Anthrax felt exasperated. The room was getting stuffy. He wanted to finish this thing and get out of there. So much pressure.

'And is anyone forcing you to make the answers you have given here today?' Day tried again.

'No individuals are forcing me, no.' There. You have what you want.

Now get on with it and let's get out of here.

'You have to tell the truth. Is that what you are saying?' The police would not leave the issue be.

'I want to tell the truth. As well.' The key words there were 'as well'. Anthrax thought, I want to and I have to.

'It's the circ.u.mstances that are forcing this upon you, not an individual?'

'No.' Of course it was the circ.u.mstances. Never mind that the police created the circ.u.mstance.

Anthrax felt as if the police were just toying with him. He knew and they knew they would go after his mother if this interview wasn't to their liking. Visions of his frail mother being hauled out of her house by the AFP flashed through his mind. Anthrax felt sweaty and hot. Just get on with it. Whatever makes them happy, just agree to it in order to get out of this crowded room.

'So, would it be fair to summarise it, really, to say that perhaps ...

of your activity before the police arrived at your premises, that is what is forcing you?'

What was this cop talking about? His 'activity' forcing him? Anthrax felt confused. The interview had already gone on some time. The cops had such obscure ways of asking things. The room was oppressively small.

Day pressed on with the question, 'The fact that you could see you had broken the law, and that is what is forcing you to come forward here today and tell the truth?'

Yeah. Whatever you want. 'OK,' Anthrax started to answer, 'That is a fair a.s.sump--'

Day cut him off. 'I just wanted to clarify that because the interpretation I immediately got from that was that we, or members of the AFP, had unfairly and unjustly forced you to come in here today, and that is not the case?'

Define 'unfairly'. Define 'unjustly'. Anthrax thought it was unfair the cops might charge his mother. But they told her it was perfectly legal to do so. Anthrax felt light-headed. All these thoughts whirring around inside his head.