Who'll Kill Agnes?

by Lea Chan

  Donovan walked around the balcony and knocked on Kevin’s door. “Kevin, rouse yourself, boy. Donovan here. I want to talk to you.”

  There was no response.

  “Maybe he’s in the bathroom or maybe he’s really asleep,” said Metson. The Chief’s behavior was making him nervous. He thought this was just like when he joined the force and Donovan would take him out to Candy Crick to spy on kids making out. Damn. Of course, he later gave a plausible excuse for doing that but he didn’t have any valid excuse for doing any of this right now.

  “Tell you what I think,” said Donovan, “I think Mark’s in there with him. I’ll bet you it’s just like I said when we drove up. The three of them were getting it on and that’s why Miz Bernadette’s so nervous.”

  He knocked again. Silence. The hairs on his neck were still bristling and the atmosphere hung heavy around him. He didn’t know why, but he had to get into that room. Quietly and cautiously he opened the door.

  Metson was beside himself with consternation. He couldn’t believe Donovan was entering without being invited or without a search warrant. Hopefully both newlyweds were too ignorant to question the chief’s behavior.

  They walked into a large room that looked like a tornado had rushed through it. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Both men realized that Bernie must not have been the neatest little wife. A nightlight on an end table was shining dimly near the king sized bed where a peaceful Kevin was sleeping. Mark was nowhere to be seen.

  “Really, sir, we shouldn’t disturb him.”

  Donovan felt like a fool. He’d been watching too many sordid television dramas. There was nothing out of the ordinary in this room except for all the clutter, under which were some elegant pieces of furniture. The walls looked like they had been painted recently.

  It was just as Bernie had said.

  Then to Metson’s dismay the chief said, “You know, as long as we’re here I sure would like to check out the third floor and see Miz Agnes’ room. I guess ole Lester still sleeps up there.”

  As they turned to leave the room, Bernie came running in.

  “Ohhh,” she wailed. “He’s dead! My sweetie has died in his sleep!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “What the hell!” cried Donovan as he and Metson both raced to the bed. Donovan felt for a pulse and turned to the now silent but white-faced Bernadette.

  “Ma’am, just why do you think he’s dead?”

  “You mean he’s not?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yes, I believe he is,” he replied sternly, “but how could you have known? Metson and I didn’t know until you started wailing. Now, just how did you know that?”

  “I-I didn’t.”

  “Like father like daughter, huh?”

  “I didn’t kill him! Look at him! He died in his sleep!”

  “A young, healthy kid like Kevin? I’m willing to bet you smothered him with that pillow after he fell asleep. Or did you slip him a mickey?” indicating an empty glass on the nightstand. “You Tuckers would know how to do something like that, wouldn’t you? Don’t you know the medical examiner can find pillow fibers in his nostrils and lungs and the remnants of a drink in that glass?” Donovan wasn’t too sure himself about what he had just said but all that mattered was that Bernie fell for it.

  Metson felt that somehow the chief wasn’t following proper police procedure; in fact he was positive that he wasn’t. But then again the chief had acted weird all evening, doing and saying things that could get them in a lot of trouble. He was just glad that Bernadette Tucker Henley probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

  “He-he must of smothered all by himself. He could have, you know. It happens,” she said petulantly.

  “Then how did that pillow get all the way over on the other side of the bed? Once he was dead, he just raised up anyway and tossed it? As murderers go, you ain’t too bright, Missy.”

  Metson groaned. The chief wasn’t too bright, either, he reasoned.

  Suddenly Bernie spat at Kevin. “The bastard! He told me he accidentally killed his mama and that someday he might accidentally kill me if I ever wanted to leave him.”

  “Killed his mama? Accidentally? That’s the dumbest story a Tucker has ever come up with. And why would you want to leave Kevin?” asked Donovan sarcastically, now assuming that Mark was the mastermind behind everything.

  “Uh, sir, I think you need to read her her rights or maybe we should just take her in for questioning.”

  Donovan spun around and glared at Metson. He was finally getting his case solved and his young officer suddenly had to sprout ethics.

  Reluctantly, Donovan mirandized her as Metson struggled to handcuff a kicking and screaming Bernie. Then Donovan called the medical examiner giving him the relevant information.

  As they led Bernie downstairs, Audrey and Penny entered the house.

  “My word! What’s going on?” asked an astonished Audrey.

  “Uh, ma’am, if I could speak with you two for a moment in the library. Daryl, stay here with Miz Bernadette.”

  Somberly and respectfully, Donovan informed Audrey of her nephew’s death. Penny listened in apparently deep distress.

  “But-but why?” cried Audrey, “they were very much in love.”

  “We don’t know. She’s babbling some nonsense about how he killed his mother and was going to kill her.” Donovan decided not to mention that Mark was probably the reason.

  “Tha-that’s impossible!” gulped Audrey, glancing at Penny.

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s how we feel, also. Now, was Mark Robeson still here when you ladies left?”

  “No, he and Lester left about thirty minutes before we did. I think Mark was going to spend the night with his dad and Lester had a pool game over in Connor’s Corner. Oh my goodness! Oh poor Lester! He loved that boy!”

  She began to cry, whether for Lester or for Kevin, Donovan didn’t know. Maybe for both.

  “Uh, you know how to reach Lester, Miss Audrey?”

  “I-I suppose so.”

  Disappointed that for the time being he couldn’t implicate Mark since he seemed to have an alibi during the time of Kevin’s death, Donovan returned to Metson and Bernie. Lightning and thunder accentuated their departure from Henley House with the handcuffed Bernie screaming and spitting.

  During the drive to the station Donovan, now oblivious to the weather, pondered the problem of getting Bernie to admit that Mark had killed Agnes and not Kevin. Obviously this had been the plot all along: that Mark would kill Agnes and Bernie would kill Kevin. But he couldn’t figure out their reasoning especially if they didn’t know about Kevin’s inheritance. Or maybe they did know. And if this little scenario that he was developing in his mind turned out to be the truth, then wasn’t Kevin’s death a bit premature? Why not wait until Kevin had the inheritance? And how was he going to get Bernie to implicate Mark?

  Bernie herself, in sharp contrast to her actions a few minutes ago, sat very still next to Metson, not uttering a word.

  After Rupert Morrison, the medical examiner, had left and the body had been removed, Penny and Audrey remained in the library waiting for Lester to come home. Audrey had not been able to contact Lester but his cronies had informed her that he had left earlier than usual because he wanted to beat the storm that he thought was coming.

  “Are you all right now?” asked Penny.

  “I’ll never be all right. Imagine that little bitch accusing Kevin of killing his mother.” Looking at Penny warily, she said, “And to think that it was Bernie who must have killed Agnes. I thought it was--”

  Penny interrupted her, “No, I think she’s right. I think now that-that’s what happened.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Audrey had been certain that Penny was the murderer and now wondered how she could have been so wrong.

  Penny hesitated, and then slowly chose her words. “On the day that Agnes died, I took a walk down the street to the park. Mark drove off about the time I started. Abou
t thirty or forty minutes later and I’m not sure of the time but when I was coming back, I saw Kevin run out of the back door and into the garage and a few minutes later drive out in Agnes’ car. Audrey, he did it. It wasn’t one of us.”

  Audrey sat mute and motionless. Was she telling the truth or making this up to make sure no one ever suspected her?

  “Did you go in the house at all? Did you see Agnes sitting there at the table?”

  “No, I stayed outside in the gardens, walking around. I wasn’t in the mood to spend time with Agnes. I knew she was the only one at home and figured that I couldn’t sneak up to my room without her knowing it.”

  “Oh my word! Why the hell haven’t you said something about this before?”

  “I never connected the events. I was too wrapped up in myself, I guess. As soon as the body was found, I was terrified that I was going to be accused of killing Agnes.”

  “If you didn’t do it, then why did you think you’d be accused?” Audrey had no intention of telling Penny that she had concluded that she had done it. But, she wondered, why would Penny think she’d be accused if she weren’t guilty? After all, she drew the damn X, not Penny.

  “Because,” replied Penny nervously, “I drew the--”

  At that moment Lester came bounding into the room.

  “What’s going on?”

  Once Bernie’s booking procedures were completed and Bernie was in a cell, Donovan and Metson collapsed in the Chief’s office.

  “So, do you think she killed Miz Agnes, too?”

  “Hell, no. She’s not that smart. See how she cracked with Kevin.”

  “Yeah, but she almost got caught in the act. She was the only one at home.”

  “That’s what I mean. She just isn’t smart enough. If she’d killed Miz Agnes, she would’ve been hysterical all over the place. She acted cool as a cucumber at the time and I got the feeling that she didn’t feel one way or the other about her mother-in-law.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve read some killers act that way.”

  “But not a Tucker. And she would never of thought up a scheme of switching salad greens. That’s thinking and premeditation. Tuckers don’t think and they sure the hell don’t premeditate. They react with immediate violence when provoked. Nope, we got to find a way to get her to spill the beans on Mark.”

  “You still think it was him that killed Miz Agnes?”

  “Damned right.”

  “Are you going to give her a lie-detector test?”

  “Yeah, if I can get away with it. Depends on who her lawyer’s going to be. We got her dead to rights on murdering Kevin. If we can get her to answer questions about Mark during a polygraph then the case will be closed.”

  “Well, maybe. Them things aren’t allowed in court, you know.”

  “Oh hell, Daryl, if she implicates Mark in any way, then we’ve got him.”

  Metson was a little dubious about that and decided to change the subject a bit. “It’s crazy her accusing Kevin of killing his mama.”

  “Yeah, nobody’d believe anything that ridiculous, accident or not. But that’s a Tucker for you.”

  “But why did Mark kill Miz Agnes, if that is, he did?”

  “That’s the puzzle. Let’s say that somehow Kevin learned about his mother’s will. Maybe Miz Agnes told him and he being in love with Miz Bernadette told her. And Miz Bernadette being in love all the time with Mark, told him.”

  “Then why didn’t Bernadette Tucker marry Mark in the first place?”

  “Because he wasn’t as rich as Kevin.”

  “This is all pretty farfetched, Chief.”

  “Yeah, I know. I been letting my imagination run away with me. But dammit, I know Mark killed Miz Agnes.” The two officers fell silent for a few minutes.

  Donovan broke the silence. “You remember those Agatha Christie novels in the library over at Henley House?”

  “Yeah, I wondered where her cookbooks were. Why?”

  “You ever read one of Agatha’s books?”

  “Hell no. I ain’t no sissy. I thought I told you that.”

  Donovan looked at him with a pained expression. “Daryl, you nitwit, there’s nothing sissy about murder and ole Agatha could put a lot of ideas into somebody’s head. It makes me wonder.”

  “What?”

  “Well, her books have sort of come to mind during the case. You yourself mentioned a conspiracy, I think, about them all slipping weeds into her salad. That’s kind of like Murder on the Orient Express.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The passengers took turns stabbing the victim or something like that. There’s been a couple of movies made from that book. I never read the book but I did see one of the movies.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not what happened.”

  “Of course not. But there’s lots of books there to give somebody ideas.”

  “And you think Mark was inspired by Agatha Christie?”

  “Naw, not really,” he laughed. “Nobody in Henley House is smart enough to pull off an Agatha Christie murder, not even Mark. But if anybody had used old Agatha it would’ve been Mark.”

  “Well, if he did it, he’s gotten away with it so far.”

  “Yeah, but when Miz Bernadette cracks, we’ve got him.”

  Metson turned his face away from Donovan and rolled his eyes.

  Lightning flashed outside the station windows followed by deafening thunder.

  “See,” said Donovan, “even the elements agree.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Rest of June

  Bernie didn’t crack. Following her lawyer’s advice, she pleaded not guilty by reason of self-defense. Donovan thought that was the dumbest plea he had ever heard. He and Metson had almost caught her in the act of murder and, as far as they could tell, she had not been in any danger. The Medical Examiner said that Kevin was unconscious when he was smothered. He had taken a very powerful sedative along with a glass of beer. Donovan concluded that Bernie had indeed mixed him a mickey. The only thing that puzzled him was why Kevin was drinking beer from a glass. He was always known to tote beer cans or bottles around with him.

  Donovan was looking forward to the trial, the first high profile murder case that he had ever investigated. Bernie’s lawyer got the trial moved to Connor’s Corner because he felt a Tucker couldn’t be tried fairly in Magnolia Creek. Donovan didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he had an airtight case.

  “Well, she passed the polygraph,” Donovan said to Metson when he got the results, “in regards to killing Miz Agnes.”

  “You never did think she killed her.”

  “Nope, and what’s more it looks like she’s telling the truth when she says Mark didn’t have nothing to do with Miz Agnes or Kevin. Damn! I just can’t believe that boy is innocent.”

  “Did she stick to her story about Kevin killing his mama?”

  “Yeah. Looks like she’s telling the truth or thinks she is anyway, which is not the same thing.”

  “Maybe Mark did kill Miz Agnes and just didn’t tell Miz Bernadette.”

  Donovan stared at Metson long and hard, “Son, you just hit the nail on the head. And Miz Bernadette is just having delusions about poor Kevin. But don’t you worry. She killed Kevin and we’re putting her away for that.”

  “What if she pleads insanity?”

  “She ain’t. She’s still claiming self-defense and we can prove that it wasn’t no such thing.”

  Lester went to pieces over the death of Kevin. When it was revealed that Bernie had accused Kevin of killing Agnes, he completely broke down. Audrey and Penny did their best to console him, especially since it appeared to them that he would inherit Agnes’ family fortune after all.

  “To think,” said Audrey, “that we went through all that agony of drawing to see who would kill Agnes and none of us had anything to do with it,” although she admitted to herself that at times she still wondered if Penny had committed the perfect crime. But if that were so, then Bernie would never have ac
cused Kevin of killing his mother.

  “Hell,” exclaimed Lester, “forget that damned drawing. I don’t want to hear no more about it ever. And I don’t blame Kevin for killing Agnes. But why did he have to tell Bernie? Maybe he’d be alive today. I just can’t believe that he threatened her. He loved that girl.”

  “Well,” said Audrey, “she’s a Tucker and hotheaded. She obviously went off the deep end. We all loved Kevin, but, Lester, he wasn’t blood kin, you know. I mean he wasn’t your natural son.”

  “So? I loved that boy. I mean I really loved him.”

  “Yes, of course you did. But now you’re going to inherit.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh, don’t play innocent, Lester. If Bernie is convicted, then as Kevin’s survivor you’ll get the Briar fortune,” which, she added bitterly to herself, should be hers.

  “Gawdamighty, this is more than I can take in,” moaned Lester.

  “Hey, Chief, you hear the latest?” asked Metson a few days later as he walked into Donovan’s office.

  “I doubt it. I’m not on the gossip circuit like you seem to be. What do you have?” He shifted comfortably in his new oversize swivel desk chair.

  “I got this from Ole Man Robeson down at The Cup.”

  “That figures. So?”

  “Miss Audrey talked Lester into giving her the Briar family jewels.”

  Donovan sat up straight. “What? But the estate can’t be settled until after Miz Bernadette’s trial.”

  “Yeah, I know. You going to do anything about it?”

  Donovan sat quietly in a pensive mood. “Hell no,” he finally said, “not unless one of them Tuckers or Miz Bernadette’s lawyer complains. Maybe we ought to go tell the Henleys, or rather Lester, Miss Audrey, and Miss Penelope and the Robesons to keep quiet. Miss Audrey deserves that jewelry more than Lester or Miz Bernadette. Anyways, think how nice them jewels would look on her.”