Who'll Kill Agnes? (26 page)

“So,” he said, “how are you going to find out?”

“I don’t know, Daryl. I don’t know. I just got a funny feeling about that house, like maybe it’s not over, that something else is going to happen.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’re just cops with overactive imaginations.”

Well, Donovan was anyway
,
thought Metson who remained silent.

“I’m telling you, Daryl, there’s something about the atmosphere tonight, in fact the whole damn day has seemed strange.”

Metson chose to ignore the chief’s premonitions, if that’s what they were. He himself had had a nagging feeling earlier in the day and thanks to Mr. Robeson had figured out what it was. He hoped that whatever Donovan thought he was experiencing was just related to the weather and not to Henley House.

After Donovan parked the car in front of Henley House, the officers got out and looked at the almost darkened house. They could see a dim light shining on the second floor

A bolt of lightning streaked downwards followed quickly by a loud clash of thunder causing both officers to jump.

“Damn,” said Donovan, “that’s just a little too close for comfort. I hope we don’t get any power lines out tonight.”

“Think anyone’s home?” asked Metson.

“Well, there’s a light on just above us. I think that’s Kevin and Miz Bernadette’s rooms. Be perfect if they’re the only ones at home.”

“And Mark.”

“Especially him. I’m betting they’re all three upstairs.”

Donovan rang the doorbell. He waited a few minutes then rang it again. Suddenly the door opened and a flustered, red-faced Bernie stood before them.

“Miz Bernadette, evening. May we come in?”

“I-I guess so,” she replied nervously.

The officers entered and Donovan commented, “I take it that Marcel ain’t answering the door tonight?”

Unaware of his sarcasm Bernie said, “Oh no. He’s gone home tonight. Everybody’s out except-uh-Kevin and me.”

“Is that so? And where did everybody go?”

“Audrey and Penny went to the movies. I’m not sure where Lester went but I think he was planning to drive over to Connor’s Corner to see some old friends.”

“Where did you say Mark was?”

“He’s visiting his dad.”

“Hmmm. So, it’s just you two newlyweds here, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that’s just fine. I’d kind of like to talk to the two of you. See how you’re getting along, handling the tragedy of Miz Henley’s death. We’re just being concerned citizens, you know.”

Metson thought his chief was pouring the syrup a little too thick, but Bernie seemed too distracted or too dumb to notice.

“Uh, well, Kevin’s upstairs. Asleep, I think.”

“This early? It’s just after eight o’clock.”

“Yeah, he’s tired, busy day and all.”

“Miz Bernadette,” Donovan’s syrupy tone had vanished, “I don’t mean no disrespect to your husband but Kevin Henley has never had a busy day in his life.” Since she was a Tucker, he expected an indignant outburst from her. Tucker females turned into spitfires when the police insulted their menfolk.

Metson was aghast. What had happened to the Chief’s concern? Besides, he liked Kevin. Why was he talking like this?

To Donovan’s astonishment, she shrugged morosely and agreed, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Well, we’d like to talk to him anyway.”

Her mood changed, almost to a panic. “Right now?” she gasped.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what I mean.”

“But, but I can’t wake him. I mean, he gets upset. No, really, I’ll have him call you tomorrow. I mean if it’s important. But really, he’s handling his mama’s death just fine if that’s what you want to know. We all are.”

The hairs on Donovan’s neck bristled as he wondered what was going on. What was Kevin hiding? Why was his wife trying to protect him?

“Tell you what, ma’am. Since you don’t want to disturb your husband and upset him then I’ll go upstairs and wake him. I’ve kind of wanted to see what that upstairs looks like anyway.”

Metson was now positive, and appalled, that Donovan had gone too far. What did he think he was doing? Telling a young woman that he wanted to wake her grieving husband to offer condolences? Sure, he wanted to grill the kid but this wasn’t the way to do it.

“No, no!” Bernie shouted. “I mean, no, let him sleep!”

Donovan stopped and stared at her.

“Tell me, Miz Bernadette, what were you doing when we arrived?”

“Watching TV.”

“Where?”

“In the library.”

“In the dark?”

“Huh?”

“The house was dark downstairs when we arrived. It took you a long time to answer that doorbell.” He turned to the library door and opened it. The room was dark. “There’s no light on in here, no TV flickering.”

“I turned everything off when I went to the door.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know. Just did.”

“I think you were upstairs with Kevin. There was a light on when we drove up. The downstairs, including the library, was dark. Come on, Daryl, let’s go see Kevin,” turning to Bernie he added, “I think I know the way to his rooms, where the light was shining, huh?”

A loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the house.

“And you say he’s sleeping through this racket, Miz Bernadette?”

“He’s a heavy sleeper. I tell you when he goes to sleep nothing wakes him up,” said Bernie nervously.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” said Donovan walking up the stairs.

Metson followed Donovan, still puzzled by his insistence on waking Kevin. So the two of them were upstairs, so what? They were married. They were alone in the house. Sure, Miz Bernadette was acting strange but she was a Tucker. Tuckers always lied to the police, whether there was any reason to or not.

When the two officers reached the balcony, Donovan looked around. “Only three doors up here.”

To Metson’s horror he opened the one that was nearest the staircase and flicked on the light. “Uh, sir, that couldn’t be Kevin’s room.”

“Yeah, I know but I was just kind of curious. I guess this belongs to one of the ladies, Miss Audrey or Miss Penny. Mighty big room with big furniture. I think I’ll just glance in the other one.” He walked over to the adjoining room and opened the door. “Yeah, much the same. I bet they each got their own private bathroom. What a life. Well, let’s see what Kevin’s lodgings are like.”

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. About 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.”