self-indulgent and stubborn as a mule.
Green had expected to find her raging mad and demanding vengeance. Judging from the way the law enforcement top brass had jumped to attention earlier, he had thought he would be bullied and threatened. But seated opposite her now, looking into her eyes, he saw no fire in them. Only bewilderment. She was a mother like any other at this moment, he thought, and felt himself relax. With her permission, he set his tape recorder on the table so that he could give her his full attention.
“Mrs. Blair, I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I need to know about your son. Are you up to answering a few questions?”
She nodded, and he began. She had last seen Jonathan at breakfast yesterday, she said. They lived alone with a housekeeper; Jonathan was an only child, his parents divorced. It had been just like any other morning. Jonathan was an early riser, and she had a busy schedule ahead of her so they had eaten about seven. They had spoken little, but that too was usual. They liked each other’s company but did not feel compelled to talk. She had reports to read, and he was absorbed in a journal article. He had always been a voracious reader and never sat at the table without a book in hand. He had commented that he would be at the university all day and wasn’t sure when he would be home. This too was usual. He spent much of his time in his lab or the library.
“Did he tell you what he planned to do yesterday? Anyone he planned to meet?”
She shook her head. “We didn’t really talk.”
“To your knowledge, did your son use drugs?” He saw her stiffen. Weiss started to protest, but Green cut him off. “It’s confidential, Mrs. Blair, but I have to know.”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“I need the names of all known friends and associates.”
“Peter said you’d need that information, so we’ve prepared a list. We haven’t got all the phone numbers, I’m afraid, but we’ll keep working on it.” She glanced across at Weiss expectantly, and he slipped out of the room.
“Thank you.” Green watched until he had disappeared, then leaned forward. Without Weiss, he had a much better chance of reaching her. “Do you know of anyone who might have had reason to kill your son?”
She sighed, and some of the stiffness seemed to dissipate. “I have racked my brains over and over, and I can’t for the life of me think who might have done this. Or why. It makes no sense.”
“Did he have any enemies?” She was shaking her head. “Any conflicts, any fights with anyone?”
“No! Jonathan avoided conflict. He was too nice; people walked all over him. He never seemed to get angry— something he certainly didn’t get from me.” Unexpectedly, she faltered. “But he was a wonderful boy. I’m not criticizing him. He was generous, sensitive, forgiving. Sometimes I was afraid of what life would do to him. And look what it’s done.”
“Was there anything out of the ordinary about him yesterday? Anything he said? His mood? Behaviour?”
She breathed deeply to collect herself. “Actually, he did seem tense. Distracted. He poured juice into his cereal.” A smile trembled on her lips. “I asked him if anything was wrong, but Jonathan is a private person. He’s used to solving his own problems—a casualty of having a busy mother, I guess. If something was troubling him, he became even quieter until he’d worked it out.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “In fact, he’s been quieter the whole past week or so.”
“Did you get the impression something was troubling him?”
She pressed her large, coarse hand to her lips. A faraway look had crept into her eyes. “I think he was going to tell me. The night before he died. He came downstairs from studying about eleven o’clock, and he asked me if I wanted tea. I said I was going to bed, so he went back upstairs. But…he looked upset. Oh, God.” She put her face in her hands.
Green hated tears. He panicked at the thought that he might have to provide solace. Watching her quiver on the brink, he plunged ahead.
“Do you have any idea what it might have been? Was there anything going on in his life that might have been on his mind?”
She rallied with an effort and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. Green glanced around the room for a kleenex, but the tables held nothing but china figurines. He wondered what room they really lived in.
“I don’t know,” she replied when she could speak. “He’s been working very hard in his lab, but he loves his work. Jonathan leads—” she stumbled, chin quivering “—led a quiet life. He just had his studies, a small circle of friends, cycling on the weekend. I worried it was too quiet, too restricted a life for a young man. He takes after his father that way, not me.”
“Any girlfriends?”
“Not now, but Jonathan attracts girls. Partly his money, but also his gentleness. And he’s a very handsome man. He’s always been a little bewildered by what his looks do to women.”
“Any recent break-ups? Any vengeful women?”
“A fairly recent break-up, yes. But I believe it was amicable. I can’t imagine Vanessa being vengeful, she’s far too bright. Too much her own woman.”
He sensed an edge, but perhaps it was just natural maternal jealousy. His own mother had never considered any of the many girls in his youth good enough for him either. Of course, considering the girls he had picked…“Vanessa?” he probed gently.
“Vanessa Weeks, one of his classmates. They’d been dating for almost a year, but they broke up last month. I don’t know why, actually, because I had the feeling Jonathan still cared for her.”
“Maybe it was her idea.”
“I don’t think so.” Mrs. Blair drew her brows together. “She called here one night a few weeks ago looking for him, and we talked. She seemed very fond of him. Said he was shutting her out, and she was very worried about him. I’d say she was upset, but certainly not angry. Jonathan is so nice he’s hard to get mad at.” She looked rueful. “Something else he gets from his father.”
“Where is his father?”
“Vancouver. Jonathan hasn’t seen him in some time.” Her voice was flat, but she reddened slightly, and Green sensed a surge of hidden feeling. Bitterness? Fear? Or something else.
“Mrs. Blair, do you have any enemies, anyone who might want to send you a warning or punish you for something?”
“Punish me?” Her eyes widened as the connection hit her.
“You’re thinking of Jonathan’s father? Ridiculous. Henry adored Jonathan, would lay down his life for him. I am by far the less important person in Henry’s life.”
Something else, Green decided. Maybe regret. He filed the observation away. “How about other enemies? Disgruntled business associates, psychotic artists?”
A shadow passed over her face, gone before he was even sure it was there. She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. “Sure, I have enemies. You can’t deal in money without angering someone. Peter Weiss handles them.”
“Anyone threaten you? Threaten your family?”
She
