“I told you Bev had a sister,” Pamela said. “Eleanor. She and Bev roomed together in a boardinghouse. Eleanor was a very troubled woman. After she took her own life, Bev moved in with me. For a while she seemed to be doing okay. She got a job working at Bullocks on Wilshire. It was a good position, and she had the polish and the background to sell luxury goods to wealthy people, but she hated it.”
“That explains the fashionable clothes in her hotel room,” Sam said. “Did she steal them so that she could look good for the conference?”
Pamela grimaced. “She said she was borrowing the clothes. She planned to return them to the stockroom when she went back to L.A. Now it looks like I’ll be the one who has to take them back to the store. I just hope I don’t get accused of theft.”
“If there is any problem, give me a call,” Sam said. “I’ll contact Brandon and get things cleared up.”
Pamela relaxed a little. “Thanks.”
“Did Beverly attend the conference at the Institute because she was interested in lucid dreaming?” Maggie asked.
“She wasn’t the least bit interested in dreams,” Pamela said. “Not until she read her sister’s diary.”
Sam didn’t move, but Maggie realized he was suddenly even more focused and intent than he had been a moment ago.
“The sister left a diary?” he said very softly.
Pamela nodded and selected a small sandwich off the tray. “Bev was curious, so she read it. She told me that four years ago Eleanor ran with a fast crowd of society people who were excited by the theories of psychic dream analysis. They joined a group formed by a man who called himself the Dream Master. Silly stuff, Bev said. But apparently the Dream Master was very good-looking. Eleanor fell hard for him. Bev found a photo of the two of them tucked into the diary.”
“Did Beverly come across any other secrets in the diary that might make blackmail material?” Sam asked.
“Apparently one of the members of the group died under mysterious circumstances. There were rumors of drugs. The only other interesting thing was that, according to the diary, the woman who later became Aunt Cornelia was a member of the dream group for a brief time. I think her last name was Dunstan or Danvers or something.”
“Dewhurst,” Maggie said quietly.
“Maybe,” Pamela said. “I don’t remember. I know Bev tried to find her in the Keeley Point phone book and also tried the L.A. phone book, but she didn’t come up with anyone who was female, the right age, and the right social class, so she gave up.”
Lillian was not in the phone book, and she lived in Adelina Beach, not L.A. or Keeley Point, Maggie thought. It would have been very difficult to find her unless you knew more about her than just her name.
“Go on,” Sam said to Pamela.
“That was it, at least at the time,” she said. “Bev boxed up the diary and seemed to forget about it until a month ago. That’s when she saw the photos of the Guilfoyles in the newspapers.”
“She recognized Arthur Guilfoyle as the Dream Master from the picture she found in the diary,” Sam said.
“Yes.” Pamela drank some coffee and lowered the cup. “She got very excited. All she could talk about was the money the Guilfoyles would pay to keep the stories of the Dream Master and the Jennaway death out of the papers. Something about drugs being involved. She said the rumors could ruin them.”
“She set out to blackmail the Guilfoyles,” Sam said. “What about Aunt Cornelia?”
Pamela grimaced. “She got the notion to try to get Aunt Cornelia to pay for silence, too. She said she could connect her to the Astral Travelers Society and therefore to the mysterious death of Jennaway. She didn’t know how to reach the woman who wrote the column, so she sent a letter via the newspaper editor. She said it was a long shot because Cornelia might not get the letter in time. She wasn’t particularly concerned.”
“Because the Guilfoyles were her primary targets,” Sam said.
Pamela nodded. “She figured they had the most to lose.”
“Did she mention Dr. Oxlade?” Sam asked.
“No, not that I recall.” Pamela sighed. “I warned her that extortion is a very dangerous business.”
“You were right,” Sam said quietly.
Pamela looked at him. “Bev was murdered, wasn’t she?”
“Looks like it,” Sam said. “But the police probably won’t be able to prove it.”
“Poor Beverly,” Pamela whispered. “She was so unhappy.”
Maggie lowered her cup. “Did Beverly find a photograph of Aunt Cornelia in her sister’s things?”
“No,” Pamela said. “The only picture she had to go by was the one of Aunt Cornelia at the nightclub in Burning Cove. But that woman turned out to be an imposter. Bev didn’t know what she was doing. The Guilfoyles are selling dreams. They stand to make a lot of money. People in that position will do whatever they think is necessary to protect themselves. Killing a small-time blackmailer wouldn’t bother them at all.”
“You’re right,” Maggie said gently. “The problem was that Beverly Nevins sold herself a dream. She thought she was going to make a lot of money in a hurry and reclaim the life she had known before her father lost the family fortune.”
“Yes,” Pamela said.
“I know the type,” Maggie said. “My ex-fiancé chased the same dream.”
“It’s just so sad,” Pamela said. “If only she had focused on the future. Instead, she obsessed over the past.”
“Any chance you brought that diary with you today?” Sam asked.
“No,” Pamela said. “Beverly took it with her when she packed for Burning Cove. She said it held the proof she needed to convince the Guilfoyles and Aunt Cornelia that she could ruin them if they didn’t pay her.”
“Just to confirm,” Sam said, “as far as you know, Beverly Nevins intended to blackmail three people? The Guilfoyles and Aunt Cornelia?”
“Those are the only people she talked about,” Pamela said. “Look, I need to go. It’s a long drive back to L.A. I’d rather not be on that road alone after dark.”
“I don’t blame you,” Maggie said. “You’ve been very helpful.” She opened her handbag, took out several bills, and handed them to Pamela. “Thank you.”
Pamela looked at the cash, uncertain. “That’s too much. I just need gas money and the rent.”
“We appreciate your time,” Maggie said. “You answered some questions for us.”
“Well, okay,” Pamela said. She put the money into her handbag and got to her feet. “Thank you.”
“One more question,” Sam said. “You said Nevins took the diary and the photo with her when she left for Burning Cove.”
“That’s right,” Pamela said.
“Did she take anything else that she thought would be useful for her blackmail scheme?” Sam asked.
“A bracelet,” Pamela said. “It belonged to her sister. She was convinced she could sell it and the diary and the photo to the Guilfoyles.”
She turned and walked away to the Hudson parked at the curb. Sam watched her drive off down the street. Maggie watched him.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I’m thinking the person who searched Beverly Nevins’s hotel room was looking for the diary, the photo, and the bracelet. Whoever it was found the diary and the photo but not the bracelet.”
“I suppose this means we can eliminate Oxlade as a suspect in Beverly Nevins’s death,” Maggie said. “Apparently he wasn’t on her list of blackmail targets. Sounds like she was just after the Guilfoyles and Aunt Cornelia.”
“It’s possible Eleanor Nevins never knew the name of the doctor who was supplying the enhancer drug to the Guilfoyles back in their Keeley Point days,” Sam said. “Either that or she simply didn’t care enough to mention him in her diary.”
“What do we do now?” Maggie asked.
Sam studied her across the small table. “Viewed from a strictly professional perspective, this case is closed. In fact, it was closed the first night of the dream conference.”
“The blackmailer was murdered, and the fake Aunt Cornelia was unmasked and sent packing that night.”
“Yes,” Sam said. He drank some coffee. “Case closed.”
She watched him, aware of the energy in the atmosphere around him.
“The thing is,” she said, “there are so many questions left unanswered.”
“None of which relates to your case.”
She frowned. “You’re wrong. One question is very much our business. Who tried to murder you in the parking lot at the hotel?”
“Could have been an accident.”