In Hamptons, Ammon Twins Put Horror in Perspective Gordon M. Grant for The New York Times Greg and Alexa Ammon at their childhood home in East Hampton, N.Y., where their father was murdered. FIVE minutes from the center of town, past the Maidstone Golf Course and a short distance from the tony houses owned by the art dealer Larry Gagosian and the entertainment manager Sandy Gallin, sits a seven-bedroom English-country-style manor house. It's the kind of space people spend a lifetime working 60-hour weeks to acquire: two-plus perfect acres with ivy-covered walls, a gorgeous weeping willow on the front lawn and a pool in back. But today, the house looks somewhat run-down. The once-magnificent garden needs pruning. The front lawn facing Middle Lane is patchy. And the two people who own it have barely been home in more than a decade. What can they say? They just really don't want to be there. "There are lots of great memories," Greg Ammon, 22, said recently, as he drove up to the house in a black Chevy Tahoe with a visitor beside him and his twin sister, Alexa, in the back seat. But they're distorted by all the bad ones. I think "Am I really going to sleep in my father's old bed?" " You see, 11 years ago something terrible happened here. The father of Greg and Alexa, R. Theodore Ammon, 52, a former investment banker at Kohlberg Kravis Roberts and the man from whom they inherited the house, was murdered. He was discovered by a colleague at KKR, Mark Angelson, who found him naked in his bed, bludgeoned to death. The police determined that the killer had used a stun gun on Mr. Ammon and had bashed his head some 30 times. It emerged that Mr. Ammon had been in the middle of a bitter divorce from his wife, Generosa. She had been having an affair with her contractor, Daniel Pelosi, a man with an extensive rap sheet and a trigger temper. It was media catnip. The New York Post set up shop and, over the next three years, published more than 200 articles about the incident and its aftermath. Vanity Fair and New York Magazine devoted multipage features to the crime. "Law & Order" did an episode inspired by it. A television movie was shown on Lifetime. And now, a decade later, Greg Ammon, the man who said he can barely bring himself to go inside his parents" house, has come back with Alexa to promote a documentary he directed about his father's death and the years that followed. The film, "59 Middle Lane," which was self-financed, had its debut at the Hamptons International Film Festival in October. On Nov. 15, it will be shown at a benefit for the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute and for Jazz at Lincoln Center; Mr. Ammon was the chairman of the jazz organization. The film does not yet have a distributor. What made the Ammon case such a big deal - and such an enduring story? In part, it's because murder in the Hamptons is virtually unheard-of. "I think it was the second one in 30 years," said Larry Cantwell, the village administrator. And it was pure Hollywood. It was the perfect script. Steven Gaines, the author of "Philistines at the Hedgerow: Passion and Property in the Hamptons," said, "It had all the tabloid elements: money, sex, blood and gore." And there was real suspense about the outcome. For quite a long time, there was a palpable sense of worry and excitement that Mr. Pelosi, who was a suspect right away and who later married Mr. Ammon's widow, might go free, even though virtually the entire tabloid reading public was convinced of his guilt. "It was one of those things where everybody knows who did it and the police don't do a thing for over two years," said Robert Kolker, who covered the case for New York Magazine. They don't make an arrest. They let Danny and Generosa leave the country. And so there were two possibilities. Either the police were incompetent or they were building a case. It turned out they were building a case. But that's getting ahead of the story, because during the two years before Mr. Pelosi was charged and went to trial, lots of strange things happened. For one, there was a Hamptons character who alerted the media that he'd had an anonymous homosexual encounter with a man he believed to be Mr. Ammon. Both Generosa and Mr. Pelosi's legal team used the story to bolster their case that perhaps Mr. Ammon had been killed by a stranger. But it was not true.