A Crime to Remember (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 6 - Who Killed Mr. Woodward? - full transcript

Good. You're here.

You don't want to miss
one minute of this,

because you'll never see

the like of what's
about to happen again.

Well, I never did, at least.

Now, if you don't recognize
where we are, I understand.

It's one of the fabulous estates

on the Gold Coast
of Long Island in 1955,

and not a lot of people

got to come through these gates
back then.

I did, but just
from time to time as a guest,



an extra man to fill out
a dinner party,

and there were a lot of those.

Now, you're about to see

the biggest scandal ever
in New York society.

Not that I like to gossip,

but it's really unbelievable
what happened.

Just hours after dining

with the Duke and Duchess
of Windsor,

Ann Woodward came home

and shot her husband, Billy,
in the face.

Accidentally -- or so she said.

Hello? Hello?

Mr. Woodward?

This is the police.



The first person on
the crime scene was a policeman.

How did this happen?

He sees Ann on the floor,
on top of her husband.

You got to get off of him.

How did this happen, ma'am?

Wake up.

Come on.
Let's get up.

Come on.
You're okay.

He's very scared.

He doesn't know
what to do with her.

And he sees so many bottles
of pills on her bureau.

And the place was a shambles.

And she's sobbing hysterically.

She was babbling
like she's crazy.

She claimed that she heard
a burglar or an intruder

get into the house.

So the police
searched the premises.

A dog was barking.

Bullet fragments
were on the wall.

Ann and Billy,
they have separate bedrooms

on either side
of an 18-foot hallway.

In front of Ann's door, there
was a custom-made shotgun...

...and the body of 35-year-old
Billy Woodward

lay in front of his bedroom
door, riddled with buckshot.

According to the caretaker,

a little after 2:00
in the morning,

they heard two shots fired.

There were some things
disturbed from the kitchen,

and although Billy and Ann
had plenty of guns,

only the one lying
on the floor had been fired.

Mrs. Woodward?

I didn't -- I didn't see.

I didn't see.

Mrs. Woodward, I need
to ask you a few questions.

I didn't see him.
You shot your husband?

I couldn't see.
It was so dark.

She says,
"I did it. I shot him."

It -- it was on the table.

It was garbage.
I couldn't see.

It was shocking to see
this beautiful, wealthy woman

covered in blood,
no doubt about it.

But to those of us in the know,

it was almost as shocking
that Ann had elbowed her way

into that home
in the first place.

Ann moved 11 times as a child.

Her mother winds up running
a taxicab company in the back

of this movie theater
right near the men's room,

and so it always stinks
of the men's room.

It's just awful.

Ann was a poor Kansas girl
from a poor Kansas town,

but, back then,
they called her Angie,

short for Angeline.

Her mother says Ann has
all these ideas on things --

she wants to better herself.

She's suddenly very beautiful.

She wanted to make it big,

just like her idol,
Joan Crawford,

another girl from Kansas.

And she gets a job at a
very exclusive department store

modeling and selling hats.

There was a buyer who came
through and who told her

to look him up
if she ever came to New York,

and that was her way out.

In New York City in the 1940s,
the wealthiest of the wealthy

had turned from their grand
ballrooms to new amusements,

playing out and about
in café society.

So they were available for the
first time to someone like Ann.

She played a society
girl, just sort of walking around,

looking elegant.

And she decided
to change her name

from Angeline Lucille Crowell
to Ann Eden.

She loved flash and glamour.

She wanted -- she keenly longed,

to become
one of the beautiful people.

Ann met her future husband,
Billy Woodward,

at Fefe's Club Monte Carlo.

Quick and easy, Billy.

Quick and easy.
Quick and easy.

You don't hear the Woodward name

that much anymore these days,

but back then,

the Woodwards were the height
of the social pyramid.

The Woodwards
made a lot of money

selling cotton to the Southern
troops during the Civil War,

and bought an interest
in Hanover Bank.

The Woodwards
were a very rich family.

Let's not get ahead
of ourselves,

because this is important --

before Ann met Billy,

in fact, before Billy
even noticed her,

someone else noticed her first.

Excuse me.

So, Ann Eden...

First catches the attention
of Mr. Woodward Sr.

She was very attractive
and very --

she had enormous
warmth and personality.

All the men wanted
to sit next to her, you know,

'cause she really was
entertaining and good-looking.

My gosh, she was marvelous.
She was beautiful.

She was sort of a little flirty,

but just the right amount,
you know?

When I was working as secretary

to our ambassador
of Great Britain,

that's when I caught
the bug for...

Racing them?

Racing, breeding, training them.

Woodward Sr. invited Ann
to Saratoga

to see his horses run,
and she went there.

This is Segula.

She's a great broodmare.

Wow.
Boy.

Hold this in your hand,
palm flat.

Hold it out.

Arch your fingers back
so she doesn't nibble them off.

Yeah.

Ann was always a bit coy
about Woodward Sr.,

but she did say she'd gone up
to Saratoga to see him.

Let me show you
the rest of the stables.

Okay.

I mean,
what do you think happened?

But Woodward Sr. was discreet,

and when Billy met Ann
at the club,

he had no idea
that she'd dallied with daddy.

He was an inexperienced youth,
sexually.

You're a brave little thing.

Maybe so.

Brave enough
to ask you to dance.

Weren't any girls like you
at tea dances.

I believe that.

You're awfully forward.

True, true.

But, clearly, they didn't teach
you how to dance like this.

No.

No, I've clearly
never had a teacher.

Watch.

Put your hand on my back.

Lower.

There you go.

Can you feel that?

Ann Woodward would dance
with Billy Woodward,

and she would sort of say
something suggestive to him

about the body language
and the movement.

And so this was really,
you know,

ladies were not supposed
to talk about s-e-x.

You don't get places when
you're a girl without any skills

unless you have
certain kinds of skills,

and hers were in the bedroom.

It was very sexual very fast.

Ann was more than ready
to handle Billy's desires.

She never imagined
Billy's violent death

would be at her hand, too.

Or did she?

Well, she was forthright
about the fact

that she had fired
the deadly shot,

and there was her husband
on the floor, dead.

So there was no question
she had killed her husband.

The question is,
did she murder her husband?

In some ways, 1955 isn't
so different from now.

And when wealthy and powerful
people are involved in a crime,

everyone pays attention.

So, when Ann Woodward
shot her husband, Billy,

in their country mansion,

the police
were very, very nervous.

The police up there
are mostly caretakers,

so they don't really know
how to handle crime.

But having things handled for
you comes along with privilege,

and all the Woodwards' people,
lawyers and so forth,

were quick to arrive.

They had influence and power.

They had the money to have
the top lawyers in New York.

These super-wealthy families
always had a veil around them,

and they could lower it
when they wanted to,

and you did everything you could

to block the press
from knowing anything.

You block the police,
if necessary.

So, the Chief of Police,
the District Attorney,

the Assistant District Attorney,

and all these sort of brass
who never go to crime scenes

are there.

Now, the police didn't want
to miscarry justice

or anything like that.

Let's just say they didn't want
to subject these fine families

to the kind of treatment
reserved for common criminals.

Hey, Chief?

We will get back to you soon.

I'm asking you
to give me some room right now.

You know as well as anyone
else that that still goes on.

Power is money, and they can
change the course of the events.

Detective,
this interview's over.

Mrs. Woodward needs
immediate medical attention.

Nurse?

When a socialite is hysterical,

even if it's a socialite
who has pulled a trigger...

It's gonna be all right, okay?

It's just gonna be a little bit.

...when that happens, there's
only one thing that can be done.

Shh.

So Ann was sedated and given
a chance to compose herself.

And how did poor
Angeline Crowell

become someone's wife --

a woman entitled
to the kid-glove treatment,

and not just a plaything?

Well, it was over
Elsie Woodward's

just-about-dead body,
I'll tell you that.

Elsie Woodward was the kind of
woman who doesn't exist anymore.

The grand dames --

certainly, Elsie Woodward
was one of them --

were a power unto themselves
at that time in New York.

Mother, I'd like to introduce
you to miss Ann Eden.

Hello, Mrs. Woodward.
It's so nice to meet you.

And, Ann, this is my father.

Nice to meet you.

Come on.
I'll show you Bolingbrook.

I'll be right back.

And when she saw that bird
called Ann Eden

come into her court,

there was only one reaction
was possible, which was "No."

"N-o-c-d" -- that was everyone's
favorite expression

in those days,

which was, I'd like to say,
"Not our caliber drawing,"

but it meant
"Not our class, dear."

Kansas?

Yes, but I li--
I like it here much more.

You do?
- Yeah.

Why did you come here?

Hello, miss.
Nice to see you again.

This is a beautiful dress.

Marriage was the only way
that someone like an Ann

could make it in that world,

and she had a very narrow window
of time to accomplish it.

Rumor has it that the Woodwards
were absolutely horrified,

and warned Billy not to marry
a woman like Ann.

Elsie wanted something
rather grand for Billy,

but they were very much in love.

I think they were.

Ann was thrilled with him,
and he was besotted with her.

He thought
she was just splendid.

Billy was hooked on Ann.

He loved how different she was
from the world he came from.

It was like a little
prison break, marrying Ann,

and she thought
all her dreams had come true.

This person comes from,
you know, rural Kansas,

and winds up marrying

the most eligible man
in New York,

and it looks like
it should be perfect.

It might've looked that way
at first,

but I'm pretty sure
that body bags and blood

aren't anyone's idea
of a storybook ending.

She was taken out
on a stretcher.

She puts a rag over her face

because she knows that
the press people are outside,

and they transport her to
Doctors Hospital in New York.

An ordinary woman
who was not a socialite,

not somebody
in this elevated social world,

would've been, you know,
cuffed and put in the slammer.

But if you look back,
those of us who knew them

could tell you
that the trouble started

well before
the night of the shooting.

I think that Ann was sensitive.

I think that, perhaps,

she didn't feel accepted
by some of the family,

and she, perhaps,
tried too hard.

Elsie, th-this tea set
is -- is beautiful.

I've been --
I've been meaning to get one

for Billy and I at home.

Where did you --
where did you find it?

Well, this was
my father's mother's.

It was made by a French
craftsman for Louis Dix-huit.

Well, do -- do you know
of where I could buy one?

Well...

This imprint
doesn't exist anymore.

If you're gonna play that game,

you really had to be observant.

You had to watch what
the top people were doing.

You had to learn it.

She was playing a role,

and she was studying to play
that role all the time.

It was a dangerous game

little Angeline Crowell
was playing...

Because the harder she worked
at fitting in,

the less time and attention
she had for Billy.

Well, I'm gonna have
one more cigarette, mother,

and then I'll be in.

You can go on without me.

We're ready.
We'll be right in.

Fantastic.
See you soon.

They're so nice, Billy.

They are nice, aren't they?
So nice.

Can we see them more often?

I would like to see
you more often.

I'd like to see you right now.

Good thing...

Good thing you married me.

It's not gonna cause
a problem, is it?

No, no.

He was imagining
a never-ending honeymoon

with his extremely
desirable wife

who had taken him places
he never imagined going

in this kind of
sexually repressed world.

Wait, wait, Billy.

No, no, no.

What?

Mother's here.
Wait a minute.

I hope they walk in.

No. No, baby.

What?

Later. Later. Later.

Come on.

We have all night.

Once Ann was married,

she was more dedicated
to becoming respectable

than she was
to being a playmate.

Do we need a new hunting dog?

We should get a new hunting dog.
That's what I'm saying.

Right?
Isn't that right?

She starts to conform.

She starts to want the approval
of his mother and his sisters

over the approval of Billy.

At that very moment in time,

Truman Capote was writing
"Breakfast at Tiffany's,"

and he was invited
to every party,

and when he saw Ann Woodward,

he really saw her as,
in his words, "A phony,"

and he despised that
about people.

Just a few years later,

the Woodwards had
two children -- two boys,

the heir and a spare.

And at a certain point,

Billy looked at Ann and thought,
"Who are we?

"How did we ever get together?

We come from two
completely different worlds."

That these differences
would matter,

let alone be a problem,

may not have occurred to Billy
early on...

...but there was one person
who believed

that Ann should never have been
allowed into this world.

The Oyster Bay Police
were already there

by the time I arrived.

She always knew that Ann
would be Billy's undoing.

Elsie finds out the next morning
and is overcome.

The killing was profoundly
grief-inducing.

Of course it was.

The way one survived the grief
was to be righteous,

to stand correct about
her daughter-in-law.

You can put the phone down.

Elsie decided that Ann
had to be, you know, guilty.

"What happened?"
I'll tell you what happened.

Ann shot Billy...

And she's trying to make it
look like an accident.

Ann Woodward may have been
spirited clean away

from all the messiness,

but that didn't stop
the Oyster Bay Police

from asking more questions
about her strange story.

It was time to figure out
what really happened

to Billy Woodward.

Now, let's be fair.
Ann's story could've been true.

Maybe there was
a prowler around.

There were rumors
and a few sightings.

You notice, they
could've went to that window.

There was a young man
who'd been arrested once,

sort of prowling
in the neighborhood,

breaking in to people's houses
and just stealing food

and cutlery
and a little jewelry.

The Woodwards' caretaker
showed detectives

the ways someone could've
gotten into the house,

if they'd wanted to.

He'd been around her house,
and he'd tried windows

and all that sort of thing,

so he was definitely around.

And the caretaker
also told the police about

what Billy found on the grounds
just the day before.

Lookit. This is
definitely no animal.

No, it's not.

This is him, right?

They decided that the
prowler had been in the pool cabana

and had been letting himself
in the kitchen,

and Billy decided that
he and Ann would shoot to kill.

See that?

That wasn't like that before.
No.

Well, Billy and Ann
didn't shoot to kill anyone

that afternoon.

They just waved
their guns around

all hair-trigger excited.

The only thing they caught
was a great story

to dine out on that evening.

Later that night,

they went to a nearby house
for a dinner that was being held

in honor of
the Duchess of Windsor,

who was Ann's good friend.

Were they drinking excessively?
Were they arguing at all?

I wouldn't know.

No, no.

The police interviewed
a lot of the people

who'd been at the dinner party.

Did she discuss
anything with you?

Come to think of it,
Ann did mention

they thought maybe there was
a prowler on the estate.

Ann, tell them
the story about the prowler.

You really haven't heard?
No.

There's a prowler
in the neighborhood.

All she talked about
at the dinner party was

the fact that their neighborhood
had been beset by intruders.

No one's gonna protect you
but yourself -- nobody.

And when you have to --
we have children.

They were a little bit nervous.

You can shoot someone
on your property...

If you think that
they're trespassing.

Yes, if they are trespassing.

The law is on your side.
You can shoot to kill.

The partygoers gave some
credibility to Ann's story

that there was a prowler and it
was, indeed, an accident,

but there was a lot they
didn't tell the police, too,

about the sordid business

that had become
the Woodwards' marriage.

Everything was normal
last night.

They were lovely, as always.

It was a matter of decorum.

"Remember, n-o-c-d --
not our class, dear."

I'm glad you're here.

I don't know when it started,

but he started having a few
little romances on the side.

Marina Torlonia, for instance.

She was very good-looking,

I mean, she was a beguiling
kind of a woman.

Princess Marina Torlonia,
she was a half Italian princess,

half Connecticut W.A.S.P.

So he gravitated towards someone

who was a much more
suitable partner for him.

And she was crazy
about Billy, too,

who was very, you know, handsome
and darling and generous.

She wanted to marry Billy.

And then it
started getting very touchy.

But a divorce would
take away not only Billy,

but everything Ann
had clawed her way towards

her whole life --

her identity, her belonging
as Mrs. Ann Woodward.

She was feeling
incredibly desperate

and at the end of her rope.

So, Ann may have had reasons
to pull the trigger,

but she also had
an innocent explanation --

she feared for
her family's safety

from a mysterious prowler.

Now, the police had arrested
a prowler months earlier.

Had this man
broken in to Ann's house?

And he's out on probation,
so they find him in Huntington.

What were you
doing there that night?

I wasn't there that night.

You were seen on the premises.

I was there
a couple nights before.

I wasn't there that night.

You was breaking in the house.

Listen, I know what happened.
Everybody knows what happened.

Some woman shot her husband
in the face, okay?

But I wasn't there.

So, at this point, things were
looking pretty bad for Ann.

She couldn't prove anything.

All she could do was wait,

locked away
in her hospital room.

And if things seemed dark then,
it was about to get much darker

with the arrival of the person
who hated Ann the most.

The shot was fired from a gun
held by Mrs. Woodward.

But you're trying to
establish why the shot was fired.

Is that correct, sir?
Or what is the situation?

Well, we're trying to establish
any underlying reason

that might've been cause
for the shooting,

other than an accidental nature.

It had been
a little over three weeks

since Ann Woodward
shot her husband, Billy,

on their Long Island estate.

The press was running wild
with speculation,

and until this point,
the family had remained silent.

It's a very different world now.
You didn't pose for magazines.

You didn't want to have
television cameras.

It was you were in the papers
when you were born,

when you were married,
and when you died.

Because you avoided publicity,

it was seen as tasteless
and things like that.

But like it or not,

a grand jury was
about to make it public,

and soon.

Elsie disliked Ann intensely...

And was quite sure that
she'd killed Billy on purpose.

I couldn't see him.

I'm so sorry.

Elsie did not want
her grandchildren

to have a mother
who had murdered their father.

That would've been
the ultimate scandal.

Of course.

I understand completely.

Now here's what you will do.

Elsie made a decision.

I've arranged to send the boys
to school in Switzerland.

It's best for them
to be away now.

From this moment on,

she insisted that Ann
was telling the truth,

that she thought
that she fired on an intruder,

not on her husband.

Elsie was no amateur.

She knew what
a scandal could do,

and she had a pretty good idea
of the ugliness that lurked

in the shadows
of her son's marriage.

She did send private detectives
all over the place afterwards,

and couldn't get
anything on Ann.

What she did was got an enormous
amount of data about Billy.

Ann and Billy's marriage
was in shambles.

Separation papers
had been drawn up,

but Billy
hadn't signed them yet.

You see, no matter how far
Billy strayed,

he couldn't quite tear himself
away from Ann completely,

but he wouldn't love her
anymore, either.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry to get in between
this wonderful conversation,

but I would love to have
one word with my husband.

They were people who loved
to fight and make up,

and they were
of that persuasion.

Let's play the game, Billy.

Ann, not here!
Ann!

She was very angry.

She would be
always attacking women,

scratching Billy if he was --

and he was a terrific flirt.

Hit me.

You've done it before.

You've done it before.
Do it again, Billy.

You see what
I have to live with?

Do it again.
Don't talk to them!

I'm sure we all know people,
I guess, like that.

Maybe not quite as steeped in it
as they were.

They argued constantly.

He'd beat her.
He'd smack her around.

Fighting at a costume party,

fighting in a German castle.

Big, public scenes.

It's well documented.

He made a point
of keeping her off-balance,

made a point
of keeping her upset.

And he was always withholding
his appreciation of her.

She was obsessed
with keeping him.

She knew that even if he would
beat her up and slap her around,

he would then
want to have sex with her.

That's the way she kept him
from divorcing her.

I don't -- I don't get --
I don't understand --

I don't understand
what you see in her.

Poor Ann was
really starting to fall apart.

She's drinking and taking pills.

What we saw in public
would give you the shivers.

And we could only imagine what
went on behind closed doors.

In November 1955,

a grand jury convened

to determine the fate
of Ann Woodward.

It was an accident.

I thought it was the --

the stranger
that had been in our house.

At the grand-jury trial,

Ann is brought in,
and she gave her testimony.

It was dark.
I couldn't see.

And she talks about
how much she loves her husband,

and this terrible thing
that's happened,

and she'll never get over it.

But Ann wasn't the only one

to give testimony
to the grand jury.

A witness finally came forward

to say they knew
what really happened

that night at the Woodwards',

and it was a familiar face, too.

Isn't it true, sir,

that you, in fact,
were inside the house

the night Billy Woodward
was shot and killed?

Yes.

From the beginning,
Ann Woodward claimed

she had mistaken her husband,
Billy, for a prowler,

but when the police
had caught the prowler,

he denied he was there.

And now it was his turn
to tell the whole world

about what really happened
that night.

The prowler --

his first story was
that he wasn't on the estate,

and then he changed his story.

I'd -- I'd already
been there before,

so I knew that there was
a tree by the house

to a-a terrace
on the second floor.

I climbed up, and there was
a window that was open.

As I was climbing in...

I stumbled.

Then I heard a shot.

Then I heard another shot.

And then I got
the hell out of there.

Jumped off the roof, and I ran.

No one really knew
what had happened

at the Woodwards' house
the night of the shooting,

so the prowler's reversal
couldn't have helped Ann more

if she had scripted it herself.

The prowler
could've changed his story

just because
he was being honest,

but it could be
that he changed his story

and made the whole thing up.

There were whispers

that perhaps Elsie had made it
worth this young man's while

to change his tune.

I don't indulge
in gossip myself,

but I do know that if Elsie
wanted to, she could afford it.

She could call up a judge.

She could call up,
you know, a senator.

She could call up
people at the top

and protect
her family's good name.

Of course, you know,
it's anybody's guess.

And she was cleared
very quickly.

The New York courts, at least,

were satisfied that Ann
hadn't intended to kill Billy,

and if you ask around,

you'll hear some people
who agree with that...

And some who think there's
a lot more to the story.

There are different ways of looking
at what happened that evening.

I still think
it was an accident.

I don't think
Ann wanted to kill him.

I mean, she loved Billy.

They really were cuckoo
about each other.

I think she knew
she was killing Billy Woodward.

It seems really hard to believe

that a woman would take a gun

and fire it in a house
where her children were there.

The threat of Billy walking out

and leaving her for one of those

other society women...

She just couldn't handle
the idea of it.

There was nothing good
about being an ex,

but being a widow
was being the best wife forever.

But the truth may lie
somewhere in the middle,

muddled up
with some liquor and pills.

Both Mr. and Mrs.
Woodward have their dressing drinks.

They get dressed. They go to dinner.
They have cocktails.

They have cocktails.
They have wine at dinner.

It's terrifying. Exactly!
It's terrifying, right?!

And then I, believe,
their after-dinner drinks,

and they go home.

And they'd been talking
about the prowler,

shooting the prowler.

Ay.

Billy...

That wasn't there before.

It was a recipe for tragedy.

Ann takes a rifle
to bed with her,

and Billy takes a gun
to bed with him, too.

Billy, apparently,
went to take a shower.

She couldn't sleep.
She was already an insomniac.

She was on a lot
of sleeping pills.

Ann went to bed.

She heard the prowler
fall in the curtains,

the upstairs curtains.

At the same moment
that she heard the noise,

Billy heard something and
came to the door of his bedroom.

One of the claims
was that it was dark that night,

but 20 feet is just
not a very great distance.

My feeling was...

That she was a woman locked
in an abusive relationship

and made a terrible
Freudian mistake --

that it wasn't something
she planned on,

but he had really gotten to her
too many times.

And I think that it was
the kind of mistake

that had a lot of "oomph"
behind it.

I suppose one
could make the mistake

of thinking that Ann walked
away without any punishment,

but I think
if you kill the one you love --

and I think that Ann
did love Billy --

it's a wound that never heals.

She was just in pain
day and night.

If she had a good few hours,
then the pain would come back,

and back she'd go into "I will
never have this man back."

"It's over.

The best is not yet to come.
The best has been."

Ann went abroad

and tried to make her way there.

She was pretty much ostracized
from her husband's world.

I saw her.

I said, "Hello, darling.
How are you?"

And she said,
"I'll never recover,"

and she never did recover.

She was called
the self-made widow,

or she was called La matadora,
"The Woman Who Kills."

People just assume,
think the worst.

All cats do not wear bells
on their collars, you know?

So, there's the simple fact

there's nothing more fascinating
than murder in a good dress...

I'm afraid.

I think Elsie
thought it was delicious

to watch Ann fall to pieces.

The woman killed her son,

and this was the only justice
that was going to be served.

But there was someone else

who wanted to serve
a little comeuppance

to Ann Woodward
in his own way...

...Truman Capote,

who'd met Ann when she was
first coming up in the world.

Remember?

Several years later,

when Truman decided to tell
the story of the Woodwards,

he gave Esquire magazine
a chapter.

And somebody...

Friend or enemy --
hard to say which --

sent Ann an advance copy.

And she was devastated.

He really depicted Ann
the way he saw her --

as a gold-digging whore.

She now has no future.

Once this story is published,
she will be ridiculed.

What had happened before

was mild compared to
what was going to follow.

She has the date the story's
supposed to come out --

it's October 25th --
marked in her date book.

There was a pad by the bed
that said, "Don't forget."

And she wrote her last words.

Ann wanted to be famous,
to be rich,

to be in high society.

She got all of that.

Her prayers were answered,
and it was her absolute undoing.

She was destroyed by that.

She may have taken a pill,

but it was a pen,
Truman Capote's pen,

that really killed her.

Ann ran as far away from Kansas
as she could,

and she decided to give these
very glamorous-looking people

the final word
on who she really was.

But I always wondered
what might've happened

if Ann had been able
to step away,

if she could've accepted a life

that didn't get
the stamp of approval

from the 400 families welcome
in Mrs. Astor's ballroom.

But that would be a whole
other story, now, wouldn't it?