Who'll Kill Agnes? (29 page)

“To tell the truth,” said Victor, trying to ignore the sobbing, “I never drank much at home. Unlike you, I was fond of my wife.”

Lester stared at his friend and wondered how much he knew or suspected about his relationship with Agnes. Lester figured most of his friends knew about the lady friend over in the trailer park. But had Mark told his father about the crazy mealtime rituals that Agnes had put them through? And wasn’t it strange that Victor mentioned a fondness for his wife but not a great love? Ah, marriage, he thought, it does crazy things to people.

“The scuttlebutt around town,” said Victor, steering the conversation even further off course, “is that Bernie’s going to get off thanks to that fancy lawyer of hers.”

“How the hell can that happen?” Lester exploded.

“That self-defense plea seems to be working.”

“That’s crazy. Kevin didn’t do nothing to her. She killed him in cold blood.”

“Maybe so, but I’m thinking perhaps you might make arrangements to get out of here.”

“Why in hell for?”

“That lawyer wants her to get Henley House.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Don’t say that, at least not in this house.”

“Guess what I learned over at The Cup?”

“Daryl, there ain’t no telling but, with what’s going on over at Connor’s Corner in Miz Bernadette’s trial, I’ll believe anything.”

“Well, Chief, seems ole Lester is getting scared and he’s cleaning out Henley House. Taking everything of value such as silver, paintings, rugs, tapestries, all that antique furniture. He’s mad as hell now because he gave that jewelry to Miss Audrey.”

“Why? Was it worth something after all?”

“A damned fortune. She auctioned it off and went to France to live in luxury.”

Donovan chuckled. “Damn, that’s funny.”

“Do you think we ought to stop him from stripping Henley House?”

“Hell no. The poor guy has suffered enough. Let him take what he can. We’ll just pretend we don’t know nothing. Then if that jackass lawyer of Miz Bernadette’s finds out and demands action, then we’ll pretend to do our job. By then, ole Lester should be long gone. Besides, when we get through testifying, the trial will turn in our favor and Miz Bernadette will be convicted. Then ole Lester can come back and reclaim what’s rightfully his.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“No doubt about it. And, Metson?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you get married and stop hanging around The Cup?”

“I’m thinking about it, Chief. I’m thinking about it.”

Mark drove up in front of Henley House and saw Lester’s loaded pickup. He got out of his car and walked around to the open gate at the side of the house where he saw Lester standing by the pool. He strolled over to him.

“You got no right to take any of that stuff until Bernie’s trial is over.”

“It’s none of your business, boy. I spent my adult life waiting for Agnes’ fortune. Bernie don’t deserve none of it. Now it looks like all I’m getting is Miss Hilda’s things. If Bernie gets out, she’ll get the money more than likely. But Donovan says she’s going to be convicted. If so, then I’m coming back and I’ll get the money after all.”

Mark looked down at the pool. “Why the hell did you drain the pool?”

“Costs a fortune to maintain it. Let Bernie fill it up and pay the water bill.”

“And if you do get to come back?”

“Then I won’t mind paying. But in the meantime I ain’t leaving her nothing, including a pool full of water.”

By the end of July the trial was over.

“A rush to judgment! A rush to judgment!” screamed Donovan on hearing the verdict amidst the hubbub of the courtroom. “How could that damn fool jury fall for that garbage? This ain’t California!”

“Her lawyer was most persuasive,” replied Metson pedantically. “According to all the reporters I been listening to, you and I assumed she did it because she’s a Tucker.”

“Is everyone nuts? We found her almost in the act of doing it. And she confessed!”

“According to her lawyer, that wasn’t a confession.”

“Then what the hell else could it have been? Damn, that trial makes us look like fools. It was an airtight case. Damn fool lawyers anyway.”

As soon as she was released, Bernie ran from the courthouse looking for Mark. She found him waiting for her in front of the courthouse beside his car. She ran into his arms and he swept her up into the air. They embraced and laughed and kissed giving photographers and news reporters a field day and Donovan a possible coronary as he watched them from the courthouse steps.

Driving away from the courthouse throng Mark asked, “Where do you want to go first?”

“To Henley House. It’s mine now. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Well, the estate hasn’t been settled yet.”

“Hey, nothing to worry about. My lawyer’s going to fix it so I inherit because I’m Kevin’s widow.”

“Damn, that’s funny how all this has worked out. And that lawyer is just clever and sneaky enough to do it. However, there’s something you don’t know.”

“Like what?”

“Lester stripped the place.”

“What do you mean?”

“He took everything. The silver, art, rugs, furniture.”

“You let him do that? How could you?”

“My dad was helping him. I couldn’t go against my own father.”

“Oh. So you mean I’m going home to an empty house?”

“Afraid so, honey.”

She brightened, “Well, never you mind. I’m going to get all of Miz Agnes’ money. My lawyer told me so. I’ll buy all new stuff, stuff that I like.”

“Atta girl. We’ll start all over.”

She snuggled up to him and nuzzled him as he drove from Connor’s Corner to Magnolia Creek. Every once in a while, Mark pulled over to the side of the road and kissed her passionately. They took their time realizing that now they had all the time in the world to do whatever they wanted. The sun was almost setting when they finally reached Magnolia Creek. Approaching Henley House, Bernie told Mark to slow down even more.

“I want a long look at the house as the sun goes down. Just think, the sun setting on my house, my own pretty house.”

Mark stopped at the driveway entrance and they both watched the flaming colors play havoc on the façade of Henley House as they gradually darkened to purples, blues, and finally a dark gray.

“Oooh, it’s so beautiful,” cooed Bernie.

Mark drove on to the front of the house. “Oh damn, Bernie, I-I had a surprise for you. I left it at The Cup.”

“What was it, sweetie?”

“Champagne, your favorite chocolates, flowers, a welcome home basket.”

“But how did you know I’d be a quitter?”

“Acquitted, you sweet loony. I didn’t know but I wanted to cover all contingencies.”

She giggled happily, “Whatever that means. Oh Mark honey, please go get it for me. And bring me one of your dad’s hamburgers. I’m starving.”

Mark laughed. “Champagne, chocolates, and a hamburger. You got real class, Mrs. Robeson-to-be.”

Bernie hugged him then jumped out of the car.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” he asked her.

“No, I got a urge to go skinny-dipping in the dark. I couldn’t do that before. That’ll keep me busy until you get back.”

“Okay, hon.” As he drove around the driveway toward the street he grinned as he thought of her plunging nude into the pool. Starving or not, she was always full of fun.

Suddenly he came to a screeching halt. The pool! Lester! He jerked the car into reverse and backed as fast as he could all the way to the house, hoping against hope that the gate was locked.

Jumping from the car he screamed as he ran to the side of the house and rushed through the unfortunately open gate. “No, Bernie, no!”

He was too late.

EPILOGUE

Lester never returned to Magnolia Creek. He found an auctioneer in a nearby state who auctioned off the Briar family possessions, among which were valuable paintings by early American artists. Although technically Lester didn’t own the Briar collection, by producing Agnes’ death certificate along with a copy of Aunt Hilda’s will and his marriage license to Agnes, the auctioneer accepted his ownership as legal. The auction took place before the acquittal of Bernadette Henley, and Lester took the money and ran, literally, to Florida where he moved in with a wealthy widow. He refused to marry her, having learned his lesson from Agnes.

Bernie’s lawyer, who represented the Tucker family after her death, wanted Lester tracked down but Chief Donovan and the police chief of Connor’s Corner both ignored the mandate, saying that Lester couldn’t be found because presumably he’d skipped the country.

Mrs. Tucker, Bernie’s mother, divorced her still-imprisoned husband, inherited Henley House, and moved her brood into the mansion. With the arrival of the Tuckers, the wealthy neighbors abandoned the neighborhood and built luxurious new homes in the development on the north side of Candy Crick Lake. No one wanted to live near a place now called Tucker House.

Audrey lived a life of modest luxury on the French Riviera. She married a young, impoverished count who later proved to be a fake, but she didn’t care. She was happy and was making up for her lost youth. Ironically, her husband’s name was Marcel. From friends in Magnolia Creek, she learned that she could probably have contested the Tucker inheritance of her family home but she decided to let things be. She hoped that somewhere Aunt Hilda was laughing herself silly at Agnes considering how things had turned out. Of course, being a faithful Baptist, she doubted they were in the same place.

Penny married a widowed technician who worked on the set of Shirley’s television show. She found herself as stepmother to his two grown children and step-grandmother to four toddlers, a role that delighted her. Then, suddenly she received notice that her parents had died and had, surprisingly, left their enormous estate in Kenya to her. Penny and her husband moved to Africa where Penny lived out her life in an exotic locale with a man who loved her. The children and grandchildren visited every Christmas.

Officer Daryl Metson married Annie Pilston who regaled him with tales of Agnes Henley. When he tried to tell Chief Donovan, he was informed not to speak ill of the dead.

POSTSCRIPT

Several months after Daryl and Annie’s wedding:

Donovan picked up the ringing phone. “Hello.”

“Chief, is that you?”

“Hell, Daryl, do I sound like my wife? Anyway, what’s up?”

“Then you haven’t heard?”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me. Can’t that new wife of yours keep you away from The Cup?”

“She’s the one that told me. So, you haven’t heard about the double wedding?”

For some inexplicable reason, the hairs on Donovan’s neck began to bristle. “No, son. Just tell me what you’re going to tell me.”

“Ole Man Robeson married Miz Tucker.”

“What the hell you say?” sputtered Donovan. “He hated them Tuckers.”

“Nope, just the ole man in prison. I think Robeson was sweet on her back when they was teenagers but she just had to get pregnant by you know who. Anyway, she divorced ole man Tucker, you know.”

“Go on,” he said resigned to hearing out Metson’s little tale. “Who else got married?”

“Mark married Camellia Tucker, Miz Bernadette’s little sister. They’re all gonna live in the mansion and call it Robeson House.”

“When the hell did you learn all this?”

“Just now. Annie’s been living on the telephone. The wedding took place last night.”

“Oh lordy.”

“But that’s not all.”

Donovan’s hairs were jumping up and down. “Then get on with it.”

“You remember that hidey hole where Miz Agnes kept her safe?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, this morning Camellia found one in Lester’s room that nobody knew about. She and Mark must’ve been honeymooning there.” He paused, trying to build tension, knowing how impatient Donovan must be.

“Get on with it, Daryl.”

“Okay. She opened it and found, would you believe, diamonds from old Miss Hilda’s great-granddaddy who had sailed to South Africa and back. Miss Hilda probably didn’t know about them. They been there all these years. Anyway, looks like the Tucker-Robesons are gonna be the wealthiest people in Magnolia Creek. They been calling people all over town this morning bragging.”

Donovan slammed the phone down.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

“There just ain’t no justice. An honest man tries to do his job and a criminal mastermind still runs free and gets rich to boot.”

“What are you talking about, dear?”

Donovan stared at May Belle who was sitting cozily in her favorite easy chair with a stack of library books next to her on an end table. She had just finished the latest Tricia Lee romance and was now beginning a romantic time-travel adventure.

Women’s books, he sneered to himself. Now, Rex Stout, he wrote for everybody. Why I bet old Nero Wolfe himself couldn’t have outsmarted Mark Robeson
.

“Well, dear, are you going to tell me or not?”

“Yeah, you’ll hear about it anyway. It’s all this town’s gonna be talking about for years to come.”

When he had finished with Daryl’s revolting gossip, his wife smiled complacently and said, “That’s nice, dear. I always did think Mark Robeson was a sweet, hardworking boy.”

Donovan moaned, settled into his recliner, and picked up
Death on the Nile
that May Belle had given him, and then tossed it aside. Haircool Poyrot was a bit too nit-picky for him. There wasn’t anything he could learn from him. Then he looked over
Murder by the Book
featuring Nero Wolfe and Mickey Spillane’s
The Killing Man
with Mike Hammer. Now, these were men’s books. He ought to give them to Metson.

He set them aside, turned on the TV, and began watching old re-runs of The Andy Griffith Show.

Several more months later:

“Metson! Get the hell in here!”

“What is it, Chief?” he said, spilling his coffee as he rushed into Donovan’s office.