Who'll Kill Agnes? (6 page)

For her part, Agnes was irritated that her advice, which she thought should have been received thankfully and gracefully, had fallen on deaf ears.

Penny entered next, dressed in the navy blue that Agnes had prescribed for Audrey. Her medium-length, curly brown hair was combed neatly, framing a pretty, heart-shaped face that, at the moment, displayed somber and perhaps fearful big brown eyes. Like Audrey, she appeared much younger than her fifty-one years.

Although Agnes was seldom in tune to the emotions of her companions, she did notice Penny’s expression and demeanor as well as Audrey’s. She wondered if there had been an argument in the library. It was high time she put a stop to that little gathering, especially now that Bernadette had joined the family. She shuddered at the thought. Or perhaps she should join them for meditations and monitor her behavior. Bernadette should learn something from her before Agnes got rid of her
.

Lester bounced in interrupting her thoughts. “Good evening, good evening,” he announced cheerily, and asked, glancing around, “where are the newlyweds?”

“Thank goodness you are all right, Lester dear. I thought perhaps I heard you coughing a few minutes ago.”

Eyes dancing, Lester responded, “I feel great. Couldn’t be better.”

“Well, you must take care of yourself, dear.”

At that moment, Bernie strolled in indolently, wearing a bright floral-print short dress that was sleeveless and clung to her skinny figure. Her stringy blonde hair drifted listlessly about her face.

“Really, Bernadette,” said Agnes, using the same tone with which she had admonished her sister, “that dress is inappropriate for dinner and you need to fix your hair.”

Unlike Audrey, Bernie was her normal self and snapped back. “Oh, really? I like it and Kevin likes it and that’s all that matters,” she replied defiantly. She loved goading her mother-in-law, knowing that Agnes wouldn’t push too far for fear of alienating Kevin.

“Now look at Penelope,” continued Agnes, “in her blue linen suit and silk blouse. She is dressed conservatively and that’s how you should dress.”

“No kidding?” Bernie winked at Penny who gave only a glimmer of a smile.

Lester broke in, “I think all the ladies of Henley House look magnificent,” nearly choking on his own laughter. He assumed that Penny and Audrey’s demeanor was due to the drawing and that they were taking it seriously. Nothing could have pleased him more, for the moment anyway.

“I see nothing funny, Lester. I am merely giving my apparently much-needed expertise on evening wear.”

Fortunately for the others, Kevin arrived, pecked his mother on the cheek, winked at Audrey across from him, and sat down, lightening everyone’s mood. “Sorry I’m late. Where’s the grub?”

Not wanting to chastise her precious son, Agnes ignored his question and began her nightly ritual of asking each member of the household to state an accomplishment of the day. To Agnes this was the “genteel” way to begin dinner.

As Mark served salads, she asked Kevin how his swim in the pool had been.

“Great, Mom, great as always.”

“Lovely, my dear, and Bernadette, what did you accomplish today?”

“I bought this dress.” Since it was Sunday she had done no such thing but Bernie didn’t think twice about lying to her mother-in-law.

Before Agnes could reprimand her, Lester, sitting at the opposite end from Agnes, between Bernie and Penny, piped in. “I made a toast to your health, dear Agnes. You know, you and Kevin ought to join us for cocktails once in a while,” he cackled as he saluted her with his glass.

“Dear Lester, how sweet of you. Maybe I will join you soon but more for meditation than cocktails. Penelope and Audrey are much too quiet this evening. I hope there weren’t any arguments. We must have a peaceful home,” she said, staring at Bernie.

“Hey, don’t look at me. We didn’t argue.”

From Lester, Agnes turned to Penny, “Well, Penelope, how was your day?”

“Fine. I read one of your Agatha Christie novels.”

Penny was the only member of the household who, on a daily basis, told Agnes what she wanted to hear and let the others, mainly Lester and Audrey and now Bernie, indulge in cynical repartee which usually escaped Agnes’ comprehension. Penny figured that the less she said, the easier her life would be. Kevin blissfully did and said whatever he wanted, as he knew he could do no wrong in his mother’s eyes.

“That’s lovely, Penelope. Just lovely. Improving your mind.”

Penny, five years younger than Agnes and better read than Agnes would ever be, just grimaced and stared into her salad.

“And you, dear Audrey?” she asked condescendingly.

Audrey, who sat between Agnes and Penny, glanced sideways at Penny. She said somberly, “I also read one,” which was not true. Audrey’s reading tastes ran in the direction of mainstream romance authors or fashion magazines. She had never touched Agnes’ collection of Christie novels, not realizing they had originally belonged to her dear Aunt Hilda. Tonight, however, she was not in the mood for a confrontation with her sister.

“Splendid!” approved Agnes. “Now you see, Bernadette, that’s what you should have done. Read a book and acquire culture.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I think I’ll read that one about
Death on the Nile
. I sort of saw it on TV once.”

“Splendid! Splendid!” An unusually energetic Lester mimicked his wife. “Let’s drink to
Death on the Nile
!” He almost choked on his own laughter causing Mark, who was removing the salad bowls, to stumble. Luckily, Mark regained his composure without a mishap.

Kevin spoke up, “Ah, Marcel, le gran chef, don’t mind Dad. He’s okay. Uh, the dinnair smells delish.”

“Mercy, señor.”

This response caused Kevin, Lester, and even Penny and Audrey to grab their wine glasses and sip rapidly to prevent themselves from erupting into uncontrolled laughter. Thanks to Kevin and Mark’s act, Penny and Audrey had seemingly recovered from their doldrums.

Bernie and Agnes looked perplexed, both of them assuming that Mark-Marcel’s French was correct and nothing to laugh at. Of course Bernie knew that Mark was putting on an act but she didn’t know that his French was fake.

“Really,” remonstrated Agnes, “we must show Marcel our greatest respect and gratitude.”

“Oh, Mom, we are, we are,” said Kevin patting her arm.

Mollified by her son’s affection, she turned her attention back to Mark who was bringing in the main entrée, a large silver platter containing the steaming pot roast and vegetables.

“Oh, how divine!” she exclaimed. “Le potty roasty and the veggies. It does smell delicious.”

Mark deposited the platter in front of Lester who began carving and serving. He quickly returned with the gravy sauce.

Soon the Henley House occupants were indulging in Mark’s latest culinary accomplishment. The compliments poured upon him whenever he entered the room to replenish their water or wine.

“Oooh,” cooed Agnes, “I love the way the French cook their meat in wine. What kind is this, Marcel?”

“Oh, so sorry Muh-dom, but that ees state secret. I cannot divulge. But I am so glad you like.” Mark never used the Henley wine in his cooking. Instead he hoarded it in his quarters for after hours use. He spent many nights at home with his father, a recent widower, and shared the Henley wine with him. And if soda pop as a substitute fooled the Henleys, then he felt he had it made, as a fake French chef, at least. Agnes, of course, had no knowledge of Mark’s double life.

After dinner Kevin and Bernie began to help Mark clear the table, much to Agnes’ chagrin.

“Kevin,” she said pulling him aside, “must I remind you every night that I pay Marcel well to do his job? He is our servant and a foreign one, after all. There is no reason for you to help him.”

“Okay, Mom, I’ll remember from now on.” Following his mother out of the dining room, he motioned Bernie to do likewise, then winked at Mark who good-naturedly waved back.

The rest of the evening proved uneventful with the household members spending their time quietly in the library, a room that had remained much the same as it had been in Hilda’s time. Although the furniture was old, the two genuine leather sofas and four matching easy chairs had worn well over the years. The mahogany bar stood in one of the corners and Lester saw to it that it was well-stocked, always convincing Agnes that a prominent family must have a little bit of everything on hand since one never knew what dignitary might come for a visit. A mahogany desk sat by the front window with a grandfather clock behind it. The walls were lined with bookshelves full of Aunt Hilda’s ancient tomes. The east window looked out on the pool area. End tables with lamps were situated at random around the chairs and sofas. The room was a comfortable and popular meeting place for the entire household.

From the shelves, Penny plucked another Agatha Christie,
Murder After Hours
, and she smiled whimsically at the title. She thought how incongruous it was that Agnes considered reading mystery novels a sign of culture and well-bred education, especially since she didn’t read them herself. Penny was grateful, however, to Miss Hilda Briar for having collected them. Agatha Christie had provided Penny with many an hour of escapism from the monotony of Henley House.

Bernie yanked
Death on the Nile
from its perch but only half-heartedly glanced at it. Audrey worked a crossword puzzle while Kevin and Lester played dominoes. Agnes sipped a brandy as she watched a tabloid news show and occasionally observed her family, approving their activities. A warm glow spread through her as she enjoyed her wonderful life.

Penny retired early to her room but being restless couldn’t sleep. She paced back and forth on the old carpet. She grimaced as she remembered the first time that Agnes had shown her to this room. When Penny had seen how threadbare the carpet was when she moved in years ago, Agnes had told her that the carpet was fine and that there was no reason to replace it and so it stayed. Hilda Briar had inherited many family heirlooms and had furnished the house with them. The bedroom furniture was heavy and ponderous but comfortable enough. Upon moving into the room Penny immediately asked to have the old mattresses thrown away and new ones substituted. Agnes had at first insisted that Penny keep things as they were but even she could see how old and lumpy the mattresses were and therefore reluctantly complied with the request. Penny also wanted to replace the dark, flowered wallpaper with a lighter lavender print but in this Agnes remained firm. The old wallpaper would show the world how historical the mansion was in case she should ever want to open it to the public, a paying public, a few days each month.

Over the years Penny became accustomed to the dark room with the dark, heavy furnishings. The mahogany four-poster bed that stood very high off the floor, especially with the modern mattress and box springs, now seemed very comfortable to her, as did the other furnishings. The room also contained a mirrored dressing table with a matching chair, a mahogany desk, and an easy chair with cushions so deep that Penny almost disappeared into their depths whenever she sat down. Eventually the room became Penny’s private refuge although nothing of her own tastes or personality was evident. She even left the old pictures of dark, brooding landscapes on the wall.

Now, however, as she paced back and forth, Penny’s thoughts circled in maddening confusion, preventing her from finding any peace at all in her little haven.

“Oh, that Lester! Is he really serious? Does he actually think one of us will kill her? What if he had drawn the X? Would he do it? Or was this just an elaborate joke on his part? What if Audrey or Bernie had drawn the X? Do they all hate Agnes that much? Yes, certainly Audrey and I do. Agnes ruined our lives if Audrey was right about things and she must have been. But Lester and Bernie? Bernie hasn’t been here long enough and she’s tough. So far she has stood up to Agnes but, as Audrey says, Agnes has ways of destroying people. And, there’s no way to know she’s doing it until it’s been done. But Bernie doesn’t know that. Not yet anyway. Lester obviously hates Agnes. She has robbed him of his dignity. He lives here in the lap of luxury as long as he tows the line. Of course, he does it for Kevin’s sake but would life be better if Agnes died and Lester inherited? Could I get my life back together at this late date? Oh, what am I thinking? I drew the X so Agnes won’t die. How could I kill someone? Agatha Christie loved poisons but I don’t know the first thing about something like that.”

Finally, almost exhausted from the pacing and the worrying, she lay in her bed wishing those fears would dissipate. At last Penny fell asleep with not only disjointed thoughts but also with conflicting emotions. She was actually contemplating ways to commit murder and those thoughts terrified her.

Next door, Audrey stood by the window in her room, a room furnished very much like Penny’s, gazing out over the darkened grounds of Henley House, not really observing the moonlight dancing on the pool or the ominous shadows of the gardens beyond. Her mind dwelled in a more surrealist realm.

“At least half of this should be mine. Life would be better if Agnes were gone. Much better, of course, for Lester than the rest of us. How clever of him to have us draw for an X. Does he really expect one of us to do it? Or was he just playing a parlor game to ease the tension and boredom of our lives? I wonder what is in Agnes’ will. Surely she left ample provisions for Kevin, but Les would be the primary beneficiary. And if something happened to Agnes then Les would make Kevin his heir. Or did Agnes even have a will? Has she ever contemplated her own mortality? After all, she considers herself a goddess to be worshipped by all.” Audrey laughed out loud at such an absurd thought.

“But Les would inherit, no matter what. Therefore, he, Kevin, and Bernie have nothing to lose. If Agnes made a will, did she leave me anything? She cheated me thirty years ago. Has Agnes changed at all since then?”

Looking upwards to the ceiling and beyond, Audrey entreated her beloved aunt, “Oh, Aunt Hilda, what did Agnes do to make you disinherit me? I know you loved me. Would my life be better if Agnes died? Would Les give me at least a portion of what should be mine? And if he didn’t, what would happen then?”