The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (3 page)

The rumour mill continued to produce more stories, almost all of which found themselves printed in the daily press; on one occasion her father was researched. In the Woodwards’ marriage
announcement her father was referred to as the late Colonel Crowell, but this was seemingly untrue as he was in fact alive and kicking. Ann had not kept in contact with her father and owing to his
daughter’s name change he had not been able to trace her, being under the impression that she was actually the actress called Eve Arden, though he never considered contacting her to find out
if this was correct.

It was to this background of press and media intrusion that Ann was forced to describe the events leading up to her husband’s shooting. She described how she and Billy had arrived home to
a quiet house, retiring to their own separate bedrooms soon after arriving home, tired and ready for bed after a night of relaxation and fun with some friends. She went on to describe how she was
awoken by the sound of her dog barking in the early hours of the morning. Careful to emphasize the fear she experienced when she woke up, she explained how the recent glut of house burglaries had
got her and Billy on edge and how, in the middle of that night, she felt fearful that someone was in the house with them. She explained to the jury the joint decision she and Billy had made to arm
themselves in case they were isolated, and how she instinctively reached for the weapon upon waking, terrified of what might happen. With much emotion, some of which was possibly dredged up from
her acting days, Ann described how she took the double-barrelled shotgun and ventured out of the safety of her own bedroom and into the corridor outside her room. Having built up the tension thus
far, her description of her entrance into the bedroom corridor was equally spellbinding. Having described the gloomy darkness as being alleviated by only a small amount of moonlight, Ann then
described her first sight of the silhouetted figure stood by her husband’s bedroom door. She explained away her actions as a pure response to seeing what she believed was an intruder about to
enter her husband’s bedroom. Believing she was now defending her home, her children, her husband and herself, without a second thought she pulled the trigger. The room was silent as Ann,
continuing her dramatic performance, described how the first shot missed, the majority of the shot ending up in the wall next to her husband’s bedroom door – how she then fired a second
shot and how this time, it had blasted the target. Turning to look at the jurors Ann mustered up more emotion when she described her relief when the figure slumped to the floor, but her horror and
panic when she finally realized that the man on the floor was none other than her husband Billy. She had made a fatal error, one caused by the threat of attack, but nonetheless one which had ended
her husband’s life. By now she described herself as in a total state of panic, struggling to summon the strength to call for assistance, which she eventually managed to do. Shortly after this
she said she could recall very little, having been prescribed a sedative to calm her nerves, which had the effect of sending her to sleep. Relieved at stitching off the nightmare she then told the
jury that when she regained consciousness she found herself in a Manhattan hospital, where she stayed for a couple of days until she was well enough to face the world.

The jurors, most of whom were aware of the negative press surrounding the case, took a little over half an hour to come to the conclusion that Ann had mistakenly shot her husband, without
premeditation and that it had not been an act of malice. The jury were happy to believe that Ann and Billy Woodward had both been disturbed by Paul Wirth, the Oyster Bay burglar and were then both
subject to an appalling act of terrible coincidence, both emerging into the bedroom corridor at the same time, in order to investigate the noise of the dog barking. Strangely though, it appeared
that Billy, having agreed to be armed in case of such an emergency, had apparently chosen to investigate the possible intrusion without his weapon, which was found stored in its usual place inside
the bedroom.

Ann was able to breath a sigh of relief as she was declared free of any blame. She had lost her husband due to her own mistake, had suffered enough and was able to leave the hearing a free
woman, though not necessarily with her head held high – she had after all shot one of the prestigious Woodward family dead and now her children were without a father.

Despite her success at the grand jury, her name was not cleared as far as her peers were concerned. It has been heavily suggested that Elsie Woodward paid Paul Wirth to state that he had been
planning to rob the Woodwards as they slept, but that he had been disturbed when the dog had started to bark and had fled when he heard the shotgun being fired at around 3 a.m. on the morning in
question. But why would Elsie Woodward offer Ann this unexpected rescue? Elsie was a particularly proud woman – almost royalty within her own social empire – and as such she was
determined that any family scandal should be hushed up as quickly as possible. She simply could not face her prestigious family name being dragged through the mud throughout a protracted murder
trial. Even though this meant giving Ann support at a time when she was absolutely beside herself with loathing for the woman, who she had, and would continue to treat as a lower-class citizen.

Ann was a free woman, but found that she was totally ostracized by any of her previous acquaintances and her life became almost unbearable. Her beloved sons were sent away to boarding schools in
Switzerland, where they were to be schooled in the tradition of the Woodward family. Ann hardly had any face-to-face contact with them, even to explain what had happened to their father. Thankfully
the boys had managed to sleep through the events on the night of their father’s death, but were left to piece together the little information they had regarding it. James, the youngest child,
coped less well at school than his older brother William, finding school life difficult to bear and thoroughly detesting the board ing school experience.

As her husband had not left her well catered for after his death, Ann found herself financially embarrassed and unable to make ends meet, the Woodwards continuing to give her the cold
shoulder.

On the other hand Elsie found herself to be extremely popular after the terrible death of her son and found that her social status had soared to new heights. By now she was able to name the
likes of Andy Warhol and Hollywood actor Frank Sinatra as her new friends. She clearly wanted to bring the criminal investigation to an end and was reported to have paid over $300,000 to achieve
her ends. The never-ending news stories regarding her daughter-in-law’s unsavoury past were a major strain on Elsie. With Ann seeking legal assistance to secure a portion of her dead
husband’s estate, she made her a very tempting offer.

In exchange for a generous annual income of around half a million dollars, Elsie insisted that Ann move out of America and set up home in Europe. The offer was accepted gratefully. By now Ann
was just as keen to remove herself from her socially hostile environment and ready to flee the embarrassing position she found herself in with the media stories.

Ann moved to Europe and managed to enjoy the not insignificant income her deal with Elsie afforded. As the years went by she started to long to return to America, though when she did it was soon
obvious that she was not fondly remembered and was coldly received.

One person who was glad of her return to New York was author Truman Capote, who considered that Ann’s life story was worthy of recording in print. He set about collecting information on
her and gradually started to produce a piece about her life. Ann was aware of the imminent publication date and became very nervous about it, not wanting her past retold to another generation of
Americans.

On the night before the publication was due to appear in
Esquire
magazine, Ann met with her son James who had taken to referring to himself as Jimmy. The meeting did not go well and Ann
left on a sour note. She must have felt that her world was about to fall in on her for the second time in her life. That night rather than washing and going to bed, she decided to reapply her
makeup, and, looking perfect, she took a capsule of cyanide which ended her life.

What might have been considered to be true justice in the eyes of the Woodward family, and what should have been the start of a happier chapter, turned out not to be. Jimmy was now without his
mother and father and sought solace in drugs, initially cocaine, but later moving on to heroine. His life was in ruins and he could see no way out – before the anniversary of his
mother’s death Jimmy took his own life by jumping out of a multi-storey building.

William Woodward, known as Woody to his friends, managed to survive his family problems and studied for an MBA in politics at Harvard University. He started in politics, serving under Hugh
Carey, but this career was only fleeting, as he decided after much scrutiny to live outside the public eye. Married in 1985 he chose to live overseas, away from the red-hot glare of the US media.
The marriage lasted for over ten years, but in 1996 the couple separated, his wife and daughter moving away. Woody, who was now suffering from a bipolar disorder, causing the sufferer to experience
great mood swings, found the changes to his life too great to bear. At the age of 54 he ended his life in the same way as his brother by jumping out of a building to his death. He left all of his
estate, over $30 million, to his only child and so ends this terrible family tragedy.

The Woodwards reacted to a family member’s gruesome death in the only way they knew how – they closed ranks and sought to minimize the rapidly forming public relations disaster. Only
in the realms of the rich and famous would the mother of a dead son pay a significant annual sum to the person who had blasted to death the child she reared in such a closeted, upper-class
environment.

Ann of course was found not guilty and she was still the mother of Elsie Woodward’s grandchildren, which perhaps explains her generosity towards her lower-class daughter-in-law. We will
never know.

Most people would agree that the assassination of a president has a great effect on the course of history – who knows what the future would have been if JFK’s term
had been allowed to continue past his ill-fated visit to Dallas, or if his brother Robert had made it to the White House. The assassination of Abraham Lincoln during the closing phases of the civil
war changed the future of America probably more than any other event before or since.

By 1865, the civil war had raged for nearly four years and Lincoln, the presiding President of the United States, was preparing to demobilize nearly one million soldiers who were serving under
the expert guidance of General Ulysses Grant, commander of the Union troops. The Confederates fighting for the South were led by Robert E. Lee but were finding themselves under more and more
pressure. The North had significantly more troops and were now making more progress in overcoming the tired and demoralized Confederates.

An air of desperation seemed to exist amongst those who supported the South; to them Lincoln had amassed too much power, a power he was wielding against them. Whereas the South had grown rich on
the back of the slaves who toiled in their fields, Lincoln dreamed of a united America where all Americans could live as equals, irrespective of creed or colour. It was Lincoln’s intention to
abolish slavery and give freedom to each and every black person who was presently owned by a white family. Those who lived in the South had a lot to lose, but there were also those in the North who
felt that Lincoln’s meddling had gone too far and some of them felt the time had come to contribute to the war effort.

Like many presidents Lincoln had endured a lot of hate mail, many containing threats to his life. As the man in charge of a country at civil war he was very much a potential tar get. Throughout
the early years of the war Lincoln had always struggled with his desire to be close to his people and the need to protect himself from would-be attackers, but he was at least able to take some
comfort from the track record of his predecessors – all of the fifteen presidents who had held the office before him had died of natural causes. Only Andrew Jackson had been the target of an
assassin’s bullet, but a misfire saved him. Lincoln’s Secretary of State, William H. Seward noted with pride the orderly succession of power from one president to the next, saying,
“assassination is not an American practice or habit”. Strange words considering Lincoln had come close to losing his life in the summer of 1862, when an assassin’s bullet
punctured the President’s hat as he was out riding; the assailant was never caught.

By 1864, with Lee’s troops penned into the trenches around Petersburg, Virginia, sympathisers with the South were more willing than ever to take revenge on the President and as more and
more bad news emerged regarding the downfall of Lee’s army, the desire for revenge seemed to reach fever pitch. One southern gentleman placed an advertisement which suggested that if his
fellow southerners could raise $1 million dollars he would see to it that Lincoln met with a violent end. Government detectives in Washington heard rumours of murder or abduction of the President,
as did Lincoln’s best friend and self-appointed head of the President’s security, Ward Hill Lamon. Lamon persuaded the President to make alterations to the White House which would allow
him to walk around without passing windows and which would keep him out of view of visitors. And to ensure he was always protected Lamon assigned four Washington police officers to keep an
around-the-clock vigil.

In general though Lincoln took a fatalistic approach to the perils of his high office: “I cannot possibly guard myself against all dangers, unless I shut myself up in an iron box, in which
condition I could hardly perform the duties of the President,” concluding, “if anyone is willing to give his life for mine, there is nothing I can do about it.”