Who'll Kill Agnes? Read online

  Who’ll Kill Agnes?

  by

  Lea Chan

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and settings are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and to specific places is purely coincidental.

  For Mother and Ray, mystery lovers

  Acknowledgments: D.M. for her willingness to read a handwritten manuscript and Cindy S. for typing that manuscript; L. H. for her editing and comments; Kathryn B., Betty W., Andrea Z., and Cheri S. for their comments and suggestions; Sandi B. for her critique.

  CAST of CHARACTERS

  Hilda Briar - eighty-year-old spinster

  Agnes Briar Henley - self-appointed matriarch of Henley House.

  Audrey Briar - Agnes’ younger sister

  Lester Henley - Agnes’ dark, dour husband

  Penelope Carson - Agnes’ lady companion

  Kevin Henley - likable redheaded son of Agnes and Lester

  Bernadette Tucker Henley - Kevin’s wife

  Mark “Marcel” Robeson - fake French chef

  Harold Donovan - Magnolia Creek’s police chief

  Daryl Metson - young police officer

  Shirley Gates - director of nutrition

  Annie Pilston - Shirley’s secretary

  Victor “Ole Man” Robeson - Mark’s father

  Two female students - former cooks at Henley House

  The Tuckers - bad seeds of Magnolia Creek

  May Belle - Donovan’s wife

  Quincy Martin – justice of the peace

  Rupert Norrison – medical examiner

  Stuart Oglesby – coroner

  Jefferson Parkins – family lawyer

  THIRTY YEARS AGO

  AGNES

  Magnolia Creek, a small southern town of twelve thousand inhabitants

  “Dear sweet Agnes,” murmured Hilda Briar as she swallowed the mild sedative that her elderly doctor had prescribed for her. She lay down on her old four-poster bed, part of the mahogany furniture that she had inherited many years ago, and glanced around at the blue chintz walls of her upstairs bedroom suite. Then she closed her eyes and centered her thoughts on her twenty-six year old niece who had suddenly appeared on her doorstep a few months earlier, anxious and inquisitive about her health.

  Such concern and care Agnes had shown her. Hilda now realized that Agnes just needed to grow up some to appreciate how important kinfolk were. But who would have thought that of her two nieces, it would be Agnes who would care for her in her declining years, she asked herself.

  A tear ran down her face as she remembered how her precious little niece Audrey, pretty and sweet, had been tormented and taunted by Agnes, unappealing and gawky, eight years Audrey’s senior. As a child Audrey had been Hilda’s favorite, always running to her for love and affection. The tears streamed down her face as she thought of the treachery that she now endured from the child with whom she had shared so much camaraderie.

  According to Agnes, her dear Audrey had turned to the ways of Satan and Agnes herself had found salvation. Well, she thought, Agnes was still a plain-looking girl but she wasn’t gawky or mean anymore. She was a considerate angel, that’s what she was. Hilda would never have known about her illness until it was too late if Agnes hadn’t come and spotted it.

  “Oh, thank the Lord for dear sweet Agnes.” That was the last thought that Hilda Briar would ever have as the mild sedative took hold.

  The dear sweet Agnes who had so endearingly occupied her aunt’s last thoughts was standing quietly in the doorway waiting for the sedative to do its work. Cautiously, she approached her aunt as a beatific smile crept across her face. She stood staring at Hilda for a few minutes, secure that the old lady would not waken.

  Old Doc Kelly was putty in her hands, she thought. Whatever she told him Aunt Hilda needed, he complied. Her saintly smile widened.

  In her right hand Agnes held a plastic garbage bag with a drawstring. Using her left hand she slowly lifted her aunt’s white-haired head and slipped the bag over her. She pulled the drawstring tight enough to cause suffocation but not tight enough to leave any marks or bruises. Soon the old lady was still; no breathing was apparent. Agnes waited another five minutes, the silence in the room broken only by the ticking of the antique alarm clock on the nightstand. Slowly she released the drawstring and gently pulled the bag off her aunt’s head. She checked her pulse. Nothing. She picked up her aunt’s ornate, gilded hand mirror and held it under Hilda’s nose. Nothing. Still smiling divinely she bent over the wastebasket and emptied the contents into the plastic bag, closing it with the drawstring.

  She walked over to the front windows and, from her second floor view, surveyed all that would soon be hers. It had been so easy. Too easy. Her aunt, who had been in perfect health and probably would have lived at least to a hundred, had protested at first when Agnes had told her that she looked peaked and needed to see old Doc Kelly. But she soon acquiesced to Agnes’ persistent warnings. And Doc Kelly, semi-retired and years beyond his prime, had, at Agnes’ recommendation, prescribed a mild sedative so that Hilda could get the rest she needed. There had not been a diagnosis of any illness but Agnes had convinced the two elderly people that Hilda must be extra vigilant and careful with her health. Agnes, of course, had been the vigilant one assuring that Hilda took her sedative every afternoon at two o’clock.

  Maintaining her smile and absentmindedly gazing out the window, Agnes recalled how upset her aunt had been when she told her about the wicked doings of her teenage sister. Hilda had hardly needed any prodding at all to change her will. The Briar family lawyer, although not so old or decrepit as old Doc Kelly, had readily agreed that Hilda should disinherit the younger sister. If Audrey, at such a tender age, was already involved with prostitution, drugs, and alcohol, then Hilda had no recourse but to leave her entire estate to Agnes. There was no point in giving half a fortune to someone who would rapidly squander it, the lawyer had said.

  Turning from the window and glancing at the peaceful corpse on the bed, Agnes gave a sigh of relief. The deed was done and she would soon be a wealthy woman. She could give up her job as hostess at the elegant Southern Star Restaurant in Connor’s Corner, fifteen miles away, although she had some unfinished business to take care of there before she resigned.

  Agnes left the elegantly furnished room with its permanently still occupant and shut the door behind her. As she descended the stairs, smiling sweetly with a full trash bag in hand, she encountered Edna the housekeeper.

  “Oh, Edna darling, Miss Briar is sleeping peacefully now, but in an hour or so will you please check on her? She needs her rest but she mustn’t sleep too long or she won’t sleep well tonight.” It was a ritual they went through every day. “If there’s any problem just call Doc Kelly, no one else, hear? Oh, and please throw out this trash.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Edna, a hard-working woman in her mid forties, thought that Miss Agnes was the kindest young woman that she had ever known. How many women her age would take such care with an elderly aunt?

  Agnes walked on down the stairs and out of the house to her car and drove down to the new shopping center, humming a cheerful tune.

  AUDREY

  Paris, France

  Audrey Briar, who was not a teen prostitute, a drug addict, nor an alcoholic, followed her tour guide and chaperone through customs at the Paris airport, still not quite believing that her spiteful older sister had treated her to a summer in France as a high school graduation gift. Was Agnes really turning a new leaf, she wondered?

  She put aside her thoughts of Agnes and looked forward to the bus ride from the airport to the hotel. On the plane she had made friends with some of the girls in her group and hoped that she would room with them. Once at the hotel the chaperone divided them i
nto groups of four and Audrey indeed found herself with her new friends. When the chaperone left them, the girls hugged each other and ran around the room shouting and jumping.

  “This is just too wonderful!” exclaimed one. “Freedom! Oh, glorious freedom.”

  Audrey laughed and then in a sober voice said, “I doubt that any of you can appreciate this as much as I do. Freedom has not been part of my life for quite a while now.”

  “What do you mean, Audrey?” asked another friend. “Have you been in trouble or something?”

  “Oh no, not at all. I really hate to bring this up because I want this summer to be as carefree as possible.”

  Her friends looked at each other with perplexed expressions. One finally said, “Maybe you should just tell us and get it out and then we’ll help you forget.”

  Audrey was silent for a minute before replying. “I have an older sister named Agnes. Our parents died in an automobile accident four years ago. Agnes insisted that I live with her and that was the last thing I wanted. I would have much preferred living with our dear Aunt Hilda but Agnes wouldn’t permit it. She went through all kinds of legal maneuvers to make sure that she was appointed my guardian. Agnes was stricter with me than our parents ever were with either of us. I don’t think Aunt Hilda even knew how much I wanted to live with her.”

  “Audrey, I’m so sorry to hear about your parents. That must have been a dreadful time for you.”

  “Yes, of course, it was,” she said sadly.

  “But how could an older sister be strict? I should think you would have an easy time doing the things you wanted to do.”

  “Oh no, Agnes is the trickiest person in the world. She always managed to put a stop to my plans with sweet talk that was really blackmail in disguise.”

  “Now, that’s just plain crazy. So, how did you get away for this trip?”

  “Speaking of crazy, that is the craziest part of all. Agnes gave me the trip as a graduation present. She wants me to spend the summer here in Paris and on the French Riviera.”

  “Whoa now, I think I smell a rat. Do you suppose this is part of one of her disguised blackmail schemes?”

  “At first I wondered about that but there is nothing I have that she could want. I am simply going to enjoy my summer’s freedom and being away from my meddling, dictatorial sister!”

  “What will happen when you go back?”

  “I plan to go to a modeling school. I have always wanted to be a fashion model.”

  “Does your sister know that?”

  “Oh no, I would never have told her. I’m sure she wouldn’t approve but I’m old enough now to make my own decisions.”

  “Don’t you think eighteen is a little old to start a modeling career? Granted, you are tall and beautiful with a svelte figure but it’s a grueling career to get into.”

  Another girl hooted with laughter. “Svelte? Is this the way we are going to talk now that we are in France?”

  All four girls laughed and one said that they should concentrate on learning to speak French and not worry about how sophisticated their English was or wasn’t.

  Audrey wasn’t notified of her beloved aunt’s death or of her own disinheritance. She spent the summer cavorting on the sunny European shores of the Mediterranean, all at Agnes’ expense.

  LESTER

  Connor’s Corner, a small southern town of 15,000 inhabitants

  Two young men were shooting pool and drinking beer at the only pool hall in town. One of them, small, thin, dark, and rather taciturn, was rubbing the end of his stick casually while his tall, sandy-haired opponent lined up his shot.

  After making it, the tall one turned to his friend and asked, “So, Les, you still going out with that waitress over at the Southern Star Restaurant?”

  “She’s not a waitress. She’s a hostess.”

  “Whatever. She dresses and acts awful hoity-toity but I’ll tell you, I bet you have to kiss her in the dark.”

  “Aw, she ain’t that bad. In fact she’s passable, well, never you mind about that.”

  “Is it true she’s coming into some money?”

  “That’s what she says.”

  “You figuring on getting some of it?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “So, you gonna fix me up with that cute friend of hers?”

  “Do you mean Penny? Ain’t she kind of shy for you?”

  “Hell, man, that’s the best kind.”

  “No, my friend, the best kind is the rich kind. Penny’s some kind of orphan and ain’t got a penny to her name.” He burst out laughing at his little joke.

  “I don’t know. Agnes may come into some money but I’d rather fool around with Penny.”

  “To each his own,” said Les, amazed at how clever he could be at times with words.

  Later that evening in his one-room apartment, Lester, with a cold beer in hand, sat back on his old, second-hand sofa and dreamed of an easy life to come. He was in his mid-twenties and had never held down much of a job. He had tried his hand at auto mechanics but he hated working in places without air conditioning. If he had his own shop, he would definitely make sure the place was cool.

  He turned on his TV to an old rerun of Dallas but didn’t pay much attention to the goings on of the Ewings at South Fork. However, their opulent life style did catch his attention.

  “Damn,” he said out loud to the empty room. “That’s the life I want. A big house and servants and nothing to do but drink all day. And if I got bored, I could tinker with a brand new Rolls Royce in my air-conditioned shop. Damn, I have to marry that Agnes Briar.”

  She had taken him for a drive to Magnolia Creek the day before and shown him Briar House. It would soon all be hers she had said. She was the only heir. Lester smiled at himself. He wasn’t in love with Agnes but she was tolerable enough, especially with the inheritance that would come her way. That made her damn attractive.

  Ah yes, nothing but the good life.

  PENNY

  A small apartment in Connor’s Corner

  Penny Carson began her day with great anticipation. She loved her summer job and looked forward to her first teaching assignment in the fall. She whirled around the small living room and hummed happily to herself. Her roommate Agnes had already left for work at the Southern Star Restaurant where Agnes worked as a hostess greeting customers and Penny worked as a pastry chef. Agnes made more money than she did but Penny thought her job was more fun. Penny was rather shy and preferred to stay away from the public eye. She knew she could never be a hostess or, even worse, a waitress.

  The only thing that bothered her that morning was her upcoming date with one of Lester’s friends. For the life of her she couldn’t understand what Agnes saw in Lester. He wasn’t good looking nor was he very ambitious. His friend was only just a little better in that he was tall and fairly good-looking but neither was very well educated and that meant a lot to Penny.

  She thought about what Agnes had said about marriage.

  “Honey, being married is the most important thing for an upstanding citizen of a small town. And, it’s exceptionally important to have more money than your husband. That way you can call the shots.”

  Penny thought falling in love first was the most important thing in starting a marriage. The one thing she was sure of was that she wasn’t going to fall in love with Lester’s friend. She imagined that it would be a night in which she would spend it fighting off her date’s groping. She shuddered and then thought about the day ahead at the restaurant. Now, that was something to look forward to.

  Later at the Southern Star Restaurant

  “Penelope, honey, what’s the matter?”

  Penny, who was an attractive, brown haired, brown-eyed young woman, had tears streaming down her face as she made her way through the crowded restaurant.

  “Oh, Agnes, I’ve just been fired!”

  “Oh, honey, no. How could this happen? You’re the best pastry chef this restaurant has ever had.”

  “I-I
, well, I think so, too, but-but,” her words died away.

  “But what?”

  “A customer claimed one of my pies poisoned her,” she sobbed as she collapsed into a booth. Her friend Agnes sat beside her, put her arms around her, and tried to console her.

  “Penelope, that’s terrible. But it couldn’t possibly be true. Don’t you worry. I’ll do all I can to help you. Run along now and I’ll talk to the manager. Believe me, I’ll straighten this out.”

  “But, Agnes, how can you? It’s my word and yours against a customer who is threatening a lawsuit if-if I’m not fired.” She buried her head in her arms and continued to sob.

  “Sssh, go on home now. It can’t be that serious. Trust me, I’ll take care of it.”

  Penelope embraced her friend and, brushing away her tears, left the restaurant.

  Agnes sat back in the booth and smiled sweetly.

  FIVE YEARS AGO

  DONOVAN AND METSON

  Magnolia Creek

  Part of Police Chief Harold Donovan’s training of his newest officer was driving him around town, not that there was much training to do, and certainly not much to show him since twenty-three year old Daryl Metson was a local Magnolia Creek boy. Daryl had just graduated from the police academy upstate, the first policeman in Magnolia Creek history to do so. Donovan himself had become an officer some twenty years earlier at age twenty-two, simply by applying for the position and being accepted. His present position had been acquired by rising through the ranks due to promotions and the fact that he had had very little opposition. Harold Donovan was fast becoming a Magnolia Creek fixture if not institution.