The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (2 page)

William Woodward proved to be an equally successful president, who also maintained a strong interest in the other family business, the Belair Stud in Maryland, which during the 1930s to 1950s
sired many excellent thoroughbred horses. Some of its more noteworthy horses went on to win the Triple Crown duo, once with a famous father-son combination called Gallant Fox and Omaha. The Belair
Stud was regarded as one of the best in the world. One horse, Nashua, was regarded as the most valuable horse on the planet, earned more than $1 million in prize money, and only ever lost one race
throughout its professional racing life.

The Woodward family lived an elite lifestyle in their Belair mansion, close to their valuable stud farm. William’s son Billy was set to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the
banking profession, as well as learning the family business at the stud. Prior to taking up his position at the bank Billy served for a time in the United States Navy, during which he was awarded
the prestigious Purple Heart after surviving a torpedo attack which sank the ship on which he served. When he returned to New York he had matured into an eligible bachelor, and was indeed quite a
catch, coming from one of the wealthiest families in America, all of whom moved in the upper echelons of New York high society. And as if lady luck had not bestowed enough good fortune on him
already, he was handsome, a fine sportsman and quite witty, so not surprisingly he was very popular with all the debutantes.

Billy’s father, William, was also very popular with the ladies, being successful, powerful and charismatic. He was, for a short time, involved in an extramarital affair with a young radio
actress known as Ann Eden, though this was not her born name. She had elected to change it from Angeline Crowell when she had made the move from Kansas to New York City, seeking fame and fortune.
She was brought up by her mother who worked in a taxi cab office, earning a meagre wage so that the young Angeline was without material comfort, though much loved. Ann was described as brainy,
talented, beautiful and too good for Kansas. She moved to New York City and took various radio station jobs, becoming well regarded in her field. Her beauty did not go unnoticed either for she was
voted the “Most Beautiful Woman on Radio”, a strange accolade and not one awarded in humour.

By 1942 William Woodward Sr, apparently unfulfilled by his relationship with Ann, decided to introduce her to his son Billy, by now 22 years old, some five years younger than Ann. The plan
worked and Ann was soon besotted with the younger, more attractive man. Luckily for her Billy was similarly impressed and the two struck up a relationship, soon becoming lovers. After a whirlwind
romance, hot with the passions of youth, the pair announced their intentions to be married.

The marriage was well received by family and friends, with the apparent sole exclusion of Elsie Woodward, Ann’s new mother-in-law. Elsie Woodward did not consider Ann to be good enough for
her wonderful son, her poor upbringing and the obvious class differences between the pair suggesting only one thing. She concluded that Ann was only marrying Billy to get her hands on a share of
his $10 million inheritance, and deduced that she was some kind of conniving gold-digger. Elsie was not satisfied with her son’s choice of wife, believing her daughter-in-law to be too
voluptuous and pretty to be a good person, and advised people to be very careful of her.

Because of this family rejection, Ann found it difficult to be accepted in her husband’s social circle – Elsie was very highly regarded among her peers and when she rebuffed Ann,
others dutifully followed suit. Even Billy’s sisters began to cool towards their brother’s choice of wife, their initial acceptance gradually turning into resentment. In fact the only
person in the highest social circles whom Ann could call a respected friend was the Duchess of Windsor, better known as Wallis Simpson, the wife of Edward, the former king of England. Simpson had
experienced for herself the hardship of marrying above her station, consequently the two women formed a friendship based on their mutual difficulties.

As Ann was not tolerated within Billy’s social group, the couple spent more time alone together, really getting to know one another. They became more than just a happily married couple,
they became each other’s best friend. In time though, cracks did begin to show and the couple were observed arguing, others speculating that they were each involved in illicit affairs.
Typically, as often occurs within the bounds of a top-class respectable family, any activities of this type were swept under the carpet, never admitted to, never mentioned, glossed over and hidden
beneath a thick veneer of wealth.

Rumours circulated which inferred that Billy not only enjoyed the company of other young women, but also spent time with men. Word of his bisexuality spread, eventually reaching the ears of his
wife, who, having already lost a great deal of self-esteem, took Billy to task. A public argument was witnessed and Ann was overheard shouting, “Why don’t you just bring a man into our
bed if it’s what you want.” Despite their differences, the couple had two sons, the first, William III, was born in 1944, with James arriving some three years later. It was obvious that
Ann and Billy had no intention of splitting up their marriage – even Billy’s diverse sexual tastes seemed unable to break the weakening bonds of their marriage.

The couple enjoyed evenings out with mutual friends, always appearing to be the epitome of a happily married couple. One such party was held on 29 October 1955, hosted by the Duke and Duchess of
Windsor. Some of the guests later noted that the couple seemed to be overly concerned with a spate of burglaries which had occurred close to their home in Oyster Bay, Long Island. A sneak thief had
had the audacity to break into homes while the residents were in their beds, a terrifying thought for the Woodwards. They had told friends that they were taking no chances and were prepared for any
such eventuality. They were under the impression that a break-in at their home was imminent, as strange footprints had been found within the grounds of their mansion, and on several occasions
Ann’s dog had disturbed her during the night, something he was not normally prone to doing.

By the time that Ann and Billy arrived home it was already the early hours of the morning around 1.00 a.m. Their sons, now aged eleven and seven were both fast asleep in their bedrooms, as were
the servants, who occupied rooms at the opposite end of the house. Ann and Billy did not share the same bedroom, so after wishing each other good night, they retired to their respective rooms for
the night. Each of them had a firearm in their bedrooms – Billy was armed with a revolver, while Ann, strangely, had a 12-bore double-barrelled shotgun. While neither of them ever expected to
use the weapons, they felt safer and slept more soundly knowing that they had them should the need ever arise.

At approximately three in the morning, Ann’s dog, Sloppy, broke the silence and started barking, waking Ann from her deep slumber. With her heart pounding, a fresh burst of adrenalin raced
into her blood stream and Ann instinctively reached for the shotgun. Then, as she later described to the police, she walked slowly and silently to her bedroom door, pausing momentarily. She slowly
opened the door and peered out along the hallway, where, in the darkness of the night, she saw a shadowy figure standing outside her husband’s closed bedroom door. Without pausing for
thought, or indeed to warn the intruder, she pulled the trigger, spraying birdshot over the wall next to her husband’s bedroom door; taking better aim she fired again, this time the pellets
hitting their target, blasting the would-be robber to the floor. Once the man had hit the floor and danger began to recede, Ann moved closer to look at the now still figure laying on his back in
her upstairs hallway, her fear turning to horror when she looked down at the man and realized that she had just shot her husband. She did not know if he was dead, though it was obvious that he
needed help, so dragging herself to her feet she raced to the phone and rang the police and the ambulance service. Then, rather suspiciously, she also phoned for her attorney.

Sadly before any help could be offered to Billy, he died outside his bedroom door on the hallway floor. He had been shot in the head, examination later showing that his brain contained tiny
fragments of pellets. When the police arrived they spent time consoling Ann, who readily admitted that she had shot her husband, believing him to be a burglar. She offered her explanation to police
as soon as they arrived on the scene: “I did it. I thought he was the man who has been around here.” Shortly after her admission of guilt she became inconsolable and had to be given a
drug to sedate her.

Her powerful and very much respected attorney, Sol Rosenblatt, arrived at the mansion and soon demanded that owing to Ann’s obvious stress, she be transferred to a Manhattan hospital to be
monitored by professionals. This proved to be an ingenious ploy, for while Ann was in the hospital recovering from her shock, detectives investigating the death of her husband were unable to
question her until two days after the shooting.

The status of Billy Woodward, as a man of wealth and position elevated the investigation above the lowly police officers of the local police force, and immedately involved the Nassau County
prosecutor and the Oyster Bay chief of police, who began gathering the details of the night’s misadventure. Like others in Nassau, and even those living in the greater area of the Bahamas,
the chief of police and the prosecutor were well aware of the gossip surrounding Billy and Ann Woodward and of the public humiliation she had experienced because of her husband’s various
philanderings.

As the sun rose on the morning of 30 October 1955, tongues were already wagging, news having quickly spread of the death of Billy Woodward. Speculation was rife and suspicion was falling on Ann,
people believing that she had not innocently shot a “shadowy figure”, as she had claimed. The consensus of opinion was that she had tired of her family problems and the embarrassment
that Billy had caused her, and had decided that it was time to do away with him, claiming her part of the Woodward fortune in the process. There was, however, one small fact that the gossip mongers
were not aware of, a fact, which to some extent, removes the motive. During a period of separation from his wife, Billy had taken steps to remove her from his will, leaving the majority of his
wealth, in the form of trusts, to his two sons, William III and James.

The newspaper hounds were also gathering and were quick to assess the situation. In short, Ann had shot dead her husband in the belief that he was an intruder. That they lived in a vicinity
popular with a local and very active burglar was why they had both elected to be armed. And then the undercurrent of doubt flooded through – the Woodwards had not enjoyed perfect marital
relations, on the contrary, they had been stretched to breaking by Billy’s extramarital activity. Scandal surrounded Billy’s murder and his family formed their own views – as far
as they were concerned this was a blatant attempt by Ann to secure her financial independence.

Billy Woodward’s death, just like his life, would not be without its drama. The police investigation was advancing routinely when officers made an arrest in connection with the spate of
burglaries occurring in the Oyster Bay area. The man they arrested was Mr Paul Wirth, a known villain and accomplished domestic burglar. Once under police guard and subject to police interrogation
he quickly admitted that he was the man responsible for the break-ins, even giving specific details of his activities. Then, without need or enticement, he also added that on the night of the
shooting of Billy Woodward, he had indeed been in the process of breaking into their property when he heard the gunshot.

The whole Woodward saga and family drama became the hottest news of the day and filled many newspaper column inches. A murder story is always popular, but the death of such a wealthy socialite,
at the hands of his own wife, was inceasing readership by a massive margin. The media speculation and their perpetual theorizing was increasing the pressure on the police to either make an arrest
or offer a suitable explanation. It would have been easy to simply ignore death and put the whole sorry set of events down to a tragic accident, but the public and the press wanted more. The police
department wanted the case closed as swiftly as possible, yet needed to be seen to be making a thorough enquiry – they therefore chose to convene a grand jury to investigate every detail of
the now world-famous shooting.

Just a short while after attending the funeral of her husband, Ann was summoned before the grand jury to give her account of the events leading to her husband’s death. During the hearings
the newspapers continued to serve up titillating facts and pieces of gossip to an ever-hungry readership. Their stories were badly timed as Ann did not want to attract any publicity let alone bad
publicity. Her standing within the Woodward family could not have been lower and now she had lost most of her social circle, practically all of whom were known to her through her husband. At the
mercy of the court and a scurrilous press, it was surprising therefore to find that Elsie Woodward, a woman who now loathed Ann, was prepared to defend her. The rich and powerful attach more value
to their family names than mere mortals; to these elite upper classes, the honour of the family name is something to defend, a wrapper in which family members present themselves to other majestic
families. Whatever the truth of that evening’s events, justice could only be served if it preserved the Woodwards’ prestigious heritage. And to do that, it would need to be dealt with
quickly, before the press could could swamp them in more scandal.

Sadly for the Woodwards the press investigation appeared to be swifter and more detailed than that carried out by the police. One story which appeared more than once, to the embarrassment of
both Ann and the larger Woodward family, alleged that Ann had been married once before, and worse, that she had not dissolved that marriage fully before joining Billy at the altar. These stories
painted a terrible picture of Ann, who was even more made to look as if she had married in haste, hoping not to miss the Woodward gravy train.