Who'll Kill Agnes? by Lea Chan Read Free Book Online

for dinner, Mark quickly entered the dining room, one of two rooms opposite the library, and began setting the grandiose mahogany table that complemented the wet bar in the library. Above the table hung an enormous crystal chandelier, twinkling multitudes of reflected light. The family ate in style every night. What a life , he mused.
     
    Agnes, meanwhile, continued her preparations for dinner. She never joined the foursome in the library, giving them free time to pursue quiet literary meditations while she did likewise in her third floor suite. Lester’s smaller suite was across the hall from hers, and, by unspoken agreement, neither invaded the sacrosanct privacy of the other.
    After her aunt’s death, Agnes had moved into Hilda’s elaborate suite but had felt uncomfortable there. Marrying Lester had helped alleviate the uneasiness but with Kevin’s arrival and the beginning of Lester’s sleeping disorder, she had had the servants’ quarters on the third floor turned into suites for them. At the time of Hilda’s death there was no longer any household help living on the premises. The housekeeper, Edna, had stayed on for a while and had commuted from her farm in the country. She had adored Hilda and had greatly admired Agnes but her husband wanted her to retire in order to care for him, which she did. Agnes then hired a cleaning service to come in twice a week to care for the elegant mansion. The arrangement had worked splendidly for more than twenty-five years. Kevin was placed in Hilda’s suite where the blue chintz walls had been covered with a cowboy motif. He had received every luxury a rich child could possibly have. The two other bedrooms on the second floor eventually went to Penny and Audrey. The new chef had rooms across from the kitchen and behind the dining room. Her house was put to fine use she assured herself.
    Following her usual routine, Agnes mixed a vodka martini, a taste she shared with her sister, and toasted herself in her full length mirror. Suddenly she heard Lester come up the stairs and enter his rooms. How strange, she thought, since he usually didn’t come upstairs just before dinner. She finished her drink, combed her hair, straightened her dress in preparation for her graceful descent down the stairs, then walked across the hall, and knocked on Lester’s door.
    “Lester dear, it’s dinner time. Don’t be late.”
    She heard a muffled sound but couldn’t make out what he said.
    “Did you hear me, dear?”
    Finally a croaking “yes” answered her.
    “Well, come along then,” she said as she began her descent.
     
    Inside his room Lester was trying to muffle his laughter. Reluctantly, he pulled himself together, flushed his own bit of paper, and began to ready himself for dinner, a dinner that, for once, he was looking forward to.
     
    “We all seem to be a little late this evening,” Agnes said to Mark upon entering the dining room.
    “Yes, muh-dom, but eet ees all right.”
    “Oh, you are so congenial, Marcel. What are you serving us tonight?”
    “Le potte roaste with the veggie-tables cooked alongside eet. Very especial herbs. Very especial gravy sauce. You will like.”
    “Oh, I am sure we all will. Thank you, Marcel,” she said as he pulled out her chair at the head of the table.
    Audrey was the next to arrive. Her slim, elegant figure was attired in a flattering beige suit similar to the one Agnes was wearing. Her blonde hair was swept back into a French chignon, which gave her a much younger appearance than her age of forty-eight would indicate. Although Agnes was eight years her senior, she looked even older in comparison to her younger sibling.
    She gazed sternly at Audrey. “Really, dear, that color does not flatter blondes. I think navy blue or charcoal gray would be better.”
    For once Audrey did not respond with a sarcastic retort. She merely said, “It looked lovely in the store.”
    “Well, you should try things on before you buy them. I pay you a good