-From our studios in New York, this is "Mystery Now"
for the week of October 14, 2001.
-Two married poets, a drug-fueled party,
a broken window.
Thanks for joining us tonight.
I'm your host, Colleen Stahl, with "Mystery Now."
Tonight we'll explore the circumstances
around the death of renowned poet Adelaide Henderson
in 1994.
Was it an accident...
or something more sinister?
Find out in an episode we're calling...
"The Final Word."
[ Typewriter keys clacking, bell dings ]
[ Woman screams ]
Our story takes us
to the picturesque enclave of Roanoke, Virginia,
the Star City,
birthplace of professional wrestler Boris Zhukov
and where Adelaide McConnell
lived with her husband, fellow poet Larry Henderson,
the last person to see her alive.
-I would describe Adelaide as a handsome poet.
At least, that's how the newspapers described her.
-Michelle Crowder is a longtime family friend.
-Aah!
Larry and Adelaide were...
[ Sobbing ]
-Their love was intense.
-They always told the story of how they met.
It's long, but it's worth it. Here goes.
-At a farmers' market, reaching for the same turnip.
-Then, they validated their parking
and left together.
I guess it's just easy for some people that way.
Time for your lunch, Mr. Thimble.
-Is that baby food?
-Yes, peaches.
My man just loves peaches.
Don't you, Mr. Thimble?
-But was their love too intense?
Earl Wilbur is a former neighbor of the Hendersons.
-Larry and Adelaide were a pair of firecrackers
when they were really going. [ Chuckles ]
They would disappear for days at a time.
We'd arrange a search party and everything.
And -- And we'd find them in the woods...
barely dressed. [ Chuckles ]
Making poetry, if you know what I mean.
[ Laughs ] I mean, they wrote poems.
Didn't rhyme. Not my style.
Um....
-As the years went by, the couple would settle in
to a more socially acceptable lifestyle.
Prestigious teaching jobs at the local college,
several published works,
not to mention the joy
of raising Larry's adopted daughter, Summer.
You might say they had it all.
But was it all too much?
-Adelaide died like she lived...
high as a kite.
I remember, she would take microdoses of magic mushrooms
and experiment with the fusion of dactyl and anapestic meter.
"Friendly, she rode the wave, only to drown in bed."
[ Sighs ]
It's much better when you're stoned.
-The party in the Berkshires --
the one thing from their fast youth
they wouldn't let go of
ended up being her undoing.
Coming up after the break, on "Mystery Now's"
"The Final Word."
[ Typewriter keys clacking, bell dings ]
-Welcome back to "Mystery Now."
This is "The Final Word."
I'm Colleen Stahl.
Enemies -- we all have them.
Mine is the anchor who uses this studio before me.
Did Adelaide Henderson have enemies she wasn't aware of?
Were they at the party in the Berkshires that fateful night?
Who was?
"Mystery Now" has exclusively obtained
a list of party invitees.
24 names, 24 suspects.
Unless they didn't come... or they brought plus-ones.
-I drove up early from Virginia
to help Larry and Adelaide set up.
And Larry played Ace of Base the whole way there.
Actually 20 minutes longer than expected,
because he didn't see the sign.
-A bitter passenger.
-We were there.
The Hendersons couldn't rhyme for [bleep]
They claimed it was below them.
But they sure could throw a party.
-I brought guac.
And the news of her death came as quite a shock.
-Fierce rivals.
-Sad what happened.
Hendersons were always super nice to me.
-Would you say they had it all?
-What?
-All.
Did they have it?
A tight-lipped guest.
There was just one photograph of the party,
reportedly taken by none other than Larry Henderson himself.
Using our new-age digital technology
to clean up the photo, it looks like this.
And if we zoom in, that's Adelaide Henderson.
That's a mini quiche.
And that's a strange way to eat a mini quiche.
Perhaps because it was...
poisoned?
-I didn't poison the quiche.
-Ronnie Baker is a current college student
and former server.
Mini quiche.
-Okay.
I-I didn't kill her.
I-I was like 15, and I was only working that stupid party
so I could get enough money to buy a Sega Genesis.
-But is there a darkness hiding behind this boyish exterior?
He was, after all, the one who sold them the drugs.
What kind of drugs, specifically?
-Let's see.
There was acid, mushrooms.
-Real grass, smokeable grass, Astroturf.
-Squeaky clean, gaucho, dirty pajamas, clean pajamas,
no pajamas.
-Binders, folders, markers, pencils.
-DDT, suplex.
[ Chuckling ] Oh. Pile driver.
-Angel dust, peyote.
-Another name for peyote is bad seed.
So then I say "weed."
-What about Larry? Could he have done it?
-He was pretty high, but so was she.
She probably just fell, right? [ Chuckles ]
Do you need me to sign something or...
-[ Laughs ]
If I had a nickel for every wife I've been accused of killing.
[ Laughs ]
Look, a dime.
[ Laughs ]
-Tragically, the final trip that night
wasn't to a metaphorical moon,
but rather through a literal window.
What the police found out,
next on "Mystery Now's" "The Final Word."
[ Typewriter keys clack, bell dings ]
-So, how did it all come crashing down
through a second-story window in this upscale enclave
nestled in a wooded suburb?
A life ended in a moment.
A love shattered in a heartbeat.
Lead detective Jim Ogilvy said Adelaide's death
haunts him to this day.
-It was one of the worst things I'd ever come across.
I'll never forget it as long as I live.
I remember, I was just coming on shift,
so it must have been around 6:00 p.m.
No. 7:00 p.m.
No.
8:00?
No! No! Got it.
9:30 p.m.
Sure of that.
Wait. No.
-What happened next will shock you
if we ever get to it.
-I was just getting off shift
when I get this call that there's a disturbance
at the Henderson place.
We used to get these calls all the time.
Something drug- or poetry-related.
And this time was different
because when I got there,
there was a dead girl in the backyard.
-How would you describe
Mr. Henderson's demeanor that night?
-Uh, he didn't say a word.
He just pointed and held his fingers up
and gestured.
He was getting so upset.
That's what I remember most.
And the dead girl.
But mostly, Larry's odd behavior.
It was like he was trying to communicate something.
Just couldn't get it out.
-A confession, perhaps?
-Maybe.
-What?
We were in the middle of a very competitive game of charades,
and I was not about to lose.
-I hated being paired with Larry.
He's so competitive.
-I'll never forget. I was giving the clues.
The category was movie.
[ Hisses ]
"Interview With the Vampire."
-I thought "Shawshank Redemption"
was a valid answer
if you pronounce "Shawshank" as two words, which I do.
-Of course, that jackass Wayne blew it for me.
"The Shawshank Redemption"? Please!
He was trying to lose!
-Shawshank is one word, and everybody there knew it.
Sure, Larry's behavior was weird that night,
but I don't think he killed Adelaide.
-So you think her death was an accident?
-Oh, I didn't say that at all.
Not...at...all.
-When we return, things get strange
in the Adelaide Henderson story.
Was the handsome poet and caring stepmom murdered?
And if so, by whom?
And why?
Coming up after the break,
a new person of interest could finally
crack open the case
on "Mystery Now."
[ Typewriter keys clacking, bell dings ]
-With a suspicious husband denying any wrongdoing
and an unreliable pool of hallucinogen-addled witnesses,
the big question surrounding the violent death
of Adelaide Henderson has gone unanswered for years.
-Nobody ever talks about the window.
What kind of plate-glass window just shatters?
-All of them.
-No further comment.
-Adelaide loved Larry. I know that much.
She was herself when she was with him.
[ Voice breaking ] Her best self.
-Here.
Now, can you think of anyone else
that would want her dead?
In March of 1996,
an anonymous tip was called in to police
about a man -- a handyman drifter
known in the area for his unusual behavior.
His name -- Malcolm Gerard Kramer.
Kramer, who had lived in five states
in the previous two years,
was often described as creepy and unhinged.
-He called himself a handyman,
but I never seen him fix a damn thing.
Heard a few people call him over to fix the sink or the heater,
but nothing would get done.
-So, it was just a way to gain access to people's homes?
-Could be.
-Witnesses mention seeing a man who fit Kramer's description
at the party,
even though he was not on the guest list.
They said he was dancing...
violently.
-That guy was out of control.
He just wanted everybody to know how much rhythm he had.
It's like, "Okay, we get it," you know?
You can dance, I can dance, everybody can dance.
You got two legs, you can dance.
Seemed like he just showed up to show off.
-But what if he just showed up to do something else that night,
like kill Adelaide Henderson?
-Oh, my God, Kramer.
I wrote myself a note about him a few weeks after she died,
but I never followed up.
It was, uh, Thanksgiving.
We had in-laws in town.
Maybe it was Christmas.
Might have been Easter.
It was definitely festive.
-Nobody has seen or heard from Malcolm Gerard Kramer
in several years.
This isolated colonial is his last-known residence.
-The guy rented "The Pelican Brief"
and never returned it.
[Bleep]hole.
-We may never know what actually happened
to Adelaide Henderson
that crisp November evening in 1994.
But those who remember her recall a loyal friend and wife.
-She was a fun girl. She's probably fine.
-She died seven years ago.
-She what?
I thought she moved to Vermont.
-Not unless that's a euphemism for dying.
-Fine.
I threw the charades game.
I want to speak to my lawyer.
[ Video game keys clacking ]
-Gun to my head, husband did it.
In fact, he'd probably be the one holding the gun to my head.
-[ Chuckles ]
[ Sighs ]
So...you have a girlfriend?
-Adelaide was one of a kind --
a tortured poet
without the slightest hint of whimsy.
I'll let her last words speak for themselves.
"Gentle the night will come.
A wanton angel calls,
'I can fly! I can fly!'
Aaaaah! Ugh."
[ Gasps ]
[ Sighs ] She'll be missed.
-All told, Adelaide Henderson was an accomplished poet
whose love story tragically ended
before she could finish writing the closing chapters.
The search for answers continues.
Thank you for joining us on "The Final Word."
♪♪♪♪
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