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and pulled it over to face them. Before she sat down, she pointed to the tables.
    â€œI can’t stand doing nothing. I feel so helpless.” She frowned, “I’d like to run out and kill Ivan’s murderer.” She sniffed. “Don’t worry. Since I can’t do that, I’m going back through all my photos and making a photo collage of Ivan’s life.”
    â€œI’m sorry for your loss and apologize for intruding on your grief, but we need to talk to you about Ivan. Tell us about his life, his friends, his enemies, that kind of thing,” Zee Zee said.
    â€œEnemies.” Lena thrust her head forward. “He didn’t have enemies. You have to piss people off to have enemies. Ivan specialized in niceness. He should have told his father to go to hell. Should have lived with me. I loved him. His father didn’t.” Her voice shook, and her lower lip trembled.
    â€œHe did live here sometimes, didn’t he?”
    Lena bit her lip to regain control. “Not recently.”
    â€œWhen did he leave?”
    Lena straightened and contemplated them like a predator considering tasty prey. “If you can imagine, he accused me, his mother, of prying. He said he wasn’t going to live where his personal life wasn’t private.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “Private!” Her voice skidded up the scale to high C. “I am his mother.”
    â€œDid he move out because of something specific?”
    â€œThat’s none of your business. It has nothing to do with his murder.”
    â€œWe decide information’s relevancy. Please tell us.”
    â€œHe said I read his emails.”
    â€œDid you?”
    Her eyes didn’t quite meet theirs. “I might have happened to touch some key or other and seen it.”
    Zee Zee said nothing. The silence stretched and expanded.
    Finally, Lena said, “I wanted to find out why he spent so much time in his room.”
    â€œAnd, what did you discover?”
    â€œHe didn’t save many emails,” she said defensively.
    Rhona didn’t buy this. More likely Lena had erased ones she didn’t like, and that’s how Ivan had found out what she was doing.
    â€œWe’ll have a look at his computer.”
    â€œGood luck. He took it. Maybe it’s at his father’s house.”
    They hadn’t seen a computer or a laptop in his apartment. They’d have to follow up on this lead. “Show us his room, but first tell us about his problems with his father?”
    â€œHis father was the be-all and end-all for Ivan. He craved Curt’s love and approval.”
    â€œDid he tell you he was going to George Brown College?”
    â€œI knew nothing, and I was his mother. He told me nothing, shut me out of his life. I only wanted the best for him. Why do sons do that? Tomas doesn’t tell me anything either.” Lena jerked to her feet, sending the bench crashing. She didn’t pick it up. Instead, she motioned to them to follow her. “Come upstairs. I guarantee that his room will tell you nothing.” She pointed at them. “Nothing. I keep using that word. My son was a mystery—a big zero—a nothing.” She strode from the room.
    They followed her upstairs and along a hall to the only door that sported an unlocked padlock dangling from a latch.
    â€œIs the lock new?”
    â€œHe installed it a week before he left.” She straightened. “Of course I had to intervene. In case of fire, I insisted on having a key.”
    Which rather defeated the purpose. No wonder he’d moved out.
    The room resembled a monk’s cell.
    â€œPlease don’t come in here or allow anyone else to do so until we’ve checked everything out.” Rhona said.
    â€œHelp yourself. If you find anything that tells you about my son, it will surprise me.” Lena nodded dismissively. “Poor Ivan. Whoever killed him deserves to suffer pain like he did.