Billionairess Susan Cummings was very rich, even by the exalted standards of Virginia horse country. Shy and single, she used just two rooms of her huge mansion and slept with a .357 Magnum under her pillow. Some people called her haughty. Others said she was strangely obsessive, eccentric, and emotionless, with a strong distrust of people.
Her lover, Roberto, an Argentinean polo palyer with an eye for wealthy women, was undoubtedly handsome and possessive . . .and he was also cheating on her. But police, answering a mysterious 911 call, saw him only as a bullet-riddled corpse. Telling of esculating abuse, Susan displayed the blood running freely from knife wounds in her arm, and said she shot him for self defense. Yet police had their doubts: claiming that Roberto had been dead so long, the pool of his blood looked like red Jell-O . . .
