“It’s so bizarre,” she said. “Knowing someone who did that. Maybe I should write a book.”

Something new in her eyes. Now I understood why she’d agreed to meet with me.

“I’ve heard it’s tough,” I said.

“Writing?” She laughed. “I wouldn’t do it myself, I’d hire someone, put my name on it. There are some big best sellers who do that.”

“Guess so.”

“You don’t approve.”

I said, “So Amelia Dowd thought you had talent— ”

“Maybe I shouldn’t give you my story.”

“I have no interest in writing it up. In fact, if you do write a book, you can quote me.”

“Promise?”

“Swear.”

She laughed.

I said, “Amelia Dowd— ”

“She heard me play cello in the Essex Academy orchestra and thought I was some kind of Casals, which tells you about her ear. Immediately, she calls my mother, they knew each other from school affairs, teas at the Wilshire Country Club, acquaintances more than friends. Amelia tells Mother she’s putting together a band— a wholesome family thing, like the Partridge Family, the Cowsills, the Carpenters. My hair makes me perfect, I obviously have a gift, and bass is just another form of cello, right?”

“Your mother bought that?”

“My mother’s a conservative DAR lady but she’s always loved anything to do with showbiz. The ‘secret’ she tells everyone once she knows them long enough is that she dreamed of becoming an actress, looked exactly like Grace Kelly, but nice girls from San Marino didn’t do that even if nice girls from the Philadelphia Main Line did. She was always on me to join drama club but I refused. Ripe for Mrs. D’s picking. Plus, Mrs. D made it sound like a done deal— big record contract pending, interviews, TV appearances.”

“Did you believe it?”

“I thought it sounded idiotic. And lame. The Cowsills? My taste was Big Brother and the Holding Company. I went along with it on the off chance something would happen and I’d be able to miss school.”

“Did the Dowd kids have any musical experience?”

“Brad played a little guitar. Nothing fancy, a few chords. Billy held a guitar like a spaz, Amelia was always adjusting it. If he could carry a tune, I never heard it. Nora could but she couldn’t harmonize and she was always bored and spaced out. She’d never shown interest in anything other than drama club and clothes.”

“Fashion plate,” I said.

“Not really, she always dressed wrong. Way too fancy. Even at Essex things had gotten casual.”

“Was joining drama club her idea or her mother’s?”

“Hers, I always thought. She always pushed for the big parts, never got them because she couldn’t memorize lines very well. A lot of people thought she was semi-retarded. Everyone knew Billy was, I guess the assumption was it was hereditary.”

“What about Brad?”

“Smarter than those two. Anyone would be.”