Had she or hadn't she? On the assumption she had, New Yorker Rosie Ruiz, 26, was crowned as the first woman finisher in the 26.2-mile Boston Marathon. But doubts arose about Rosie's remarkable physical condition and stunning time: 2 hr. 31 min. 56 sec. Nobody remembered seeing her, except near the finish line; two Harvard students insisted they watched her join the pack half a mile away. Doubts also arose, as a result, about her 24th-place finish in the 1979 New York Marathon. Rechecked finish-line video tapes showed no Ruiz, although a computer had checked in her number. Rosie tearfully insisted she had run both races. Embarrassed Boston officials nevertheless contemplated another crowning ceremony for the next woman finisher, Jacqueline Gareau.

Move over Oscar, Emmy, Tony, Grammy. Make way for the Nevelson. The Nevelson? That is the American Book Awards, to be given for the first time this week for the past year's best offerings in 34 categories, including self-help and scifi. The prizes are broader than the venerable National Book Awards they replace, and the presentations will be made with more hoopla. Some wits have suggested that the new prize be called the Bookie. It was named instead after Sculptress Louise Nevelson, 80, who designed the plaque that goes to each winner, along with $1,000. How does she feel about joining Oscar, Tony and the rest? Says Nevelson: "That suits me fine."

She sells sea shells down at Saks Fifth Avenue's store. But along with turning bits of coral and mollusk mantle into bangles that are called She Shells, Key Biscayne Divorcee Helga Wagner also fashions fascinating friendships. She was the first person Ted Kennedy telephoned after his Chappaquiddick accident (the Senator later said he was only seeking Brother-in-Law Stephen Smith's telephone number in Spain). Britain's Prince Charles commanded Helga's presence as dinner and disco partner during his early-April polo visit to Palm Beach, then invited her to the Bahamas. The fetching honey blond, formerly married to Shipping Magnate Robert Wagner, says she is only a Kennedy family friend. As for the Prince of Wales, they met apres ski in Gstaad. "I don't discuss royalty," says Austrian-born Helga, who also will not get precise about her "early 30s" vintage: "You know you don't ask a European woman her age."

Frank Sinatra was in high society. Not his 1956 movie with Grace Kelly, although she was there as Princess Grace of Monaco. Also present were Cinema Bluebloods Gregory Peck and Cary Grant, who joined 1,600 others in Los Angeles to honor Sinatra as Variety Clubs International Humanitarian of the Year. Past winners--talk about high society--have included Albert Schweitzer, George Washington Carver, Jonas Salk and Winston Churchill. Accepting the award from his onetime costar, Sinatra was far from humble. "To Princess Grace and her royal crown," he joked, whisky in hand, "and to my Crown Royal."

On the Record

Lord Killanin, International Olympic Committee president, seeking talks with Jimmy Carter and Leonid Brezhnev to head off a Moscow boycott: "I can't make peace, but I can't make the situation any worse."

Gay Talese, indefatigable sex essayist (Thy Neighbor's Wife), responding to a New York magazine survey of celebrity secret vices: "Haeagen-Dazs ice cream with a Partagas cigar."

Barbara Tuchman, historian, assessing the 1980 presidential candidates: "God! The country that produced George Washington has got this collection of crumb bums!"

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