Who'll Kill Agnes? by Lea Chan

it made, as a fake French chef, at least. Agnes, of course, had no knowledge of Mark’s double life.
     
    After dinner Kevin and Bernie began to help Mark clear the table, much to Agnes’ chagrin.
    “Kevin,” she said pulling him aside, “must I remind you every night that I pay Marcel well to do his job? He is our servant and a foreign one, after all. There is no reason for you to help him.”
    “Okay, Mom, I’ll remember from now on.” Following his mother out of the dining room, he motioned Bernie to do likewise, then winked at Mark who good-naturedly waved back.
    The rest of the evening proved uneventful with the household members spending their time quietly in the library, a room that had remained much the same as it had been in Hilda’s time. Although the furniture was old, the two genuine leather sofas and four matching easy chairs had worn well over the years. The mahogany bar stood in one of the corners and Lester saw to it that it was well-stocked, always convincing Agnes that a prominent family must have a little bit of everything on hand since one never knew what dignitary might come for a visit. A mahogany desk sat by the front window with a grandfather clock behind it. The walls were lined with bookshelves full of Aunt Hilda’s ancient tomes. The east window looked out on the pool area. End tables with lamps were situated at random around the chairs and sofas. The room was a comfortable and popular meeting place for the entire household.
    From the shelves, Penny plucked another Agatha Christie, Murder After Hours , and she smiled whimsically at the title. She thought how incongruous it was that Agnes considered reading mystery novels a sign of culture and well-bred education, especially since she didn’t read them herself. Penny was grateful, however, to Miss Hilda Briar for having collected them. Agatha Christie had provided Penny with many an hour of escapism from the monotony of Henley House.
    Bernie yanked Death on the Nile from its perch but only half-heartedly glanced at it. Audrey worked a crossword puzzle while Kevin and Lester played dominoes. Agnes sipped a brandy as she watched a tabloid news show and occasionally observed her family, approving their activities. A warm glow spread through her as she enjoyed her wonderful life.
     
    Penny retired early to her room but being restless couldn’t sleep. She paced back and forth on the old carpet. She grimaced as she remembered the first time that Agnes had shown her to this room. When Penny had seen how threadbare the carpet was when she moved in years ago, Agnes had told her that the carpet was fine and that there was no reason to replace it and so it stayed. Hilda Briar had inherited many family heirlooms and had furnished the house with them. The bedroom furniture was heavy and ponderous but comfortable enough. Upon moving into the room Penny immediately asked to have the old mattresses thrown away and new ones substituted. Agnes had at first insisted that Penny keep things as they were but even she could see how old and lumpy the mattresses were and therefore reluctantly complied with the request. Penny also wanted to replace the dark, flowered wallpaper with a lighter lavender print but in this Agnes remained firm. The old wallpaper would show the world how historical the mansion was in case she should ever want to open it to the public, a paying public, a few days each month.
    Over the years Penny became accustomed to the dark room with the dark, heavy furnishings. The mahogany four-poster bed that stood very high off the floor, especially with the modern mattress and box springs, now seemed very comfortable to her, as did the other furnishings. The room also contained a mirrored dressing table with a matching chair, a mahogany desk, and an easy chair with cushions so deep that Penny almost disappeared into their depths whenever she sat down. Eventually the room became Penny’s private refuge although nothing of her own tastes or