Dorothy Stratten - Murder

Murder

Shortly after noon on August 14, 1980, Snider and Stratten met at Snider's house, where the two had once lived as a couple, and which Snider was by then sharing with its owner, their mutual friend, Dr. Stephen Cushner. Stratten had come to talk about an amicable divorce and brought along $1,000 to give to Snider.

At about 11:00PM Snider's private investigator called Cushner on his private line, saying he had been trying to telephone Snider for several hours, but Snider would not answer his phone. Cushner broke into Snider's room and found the bodies of Snider and Stratten, both dead from shotgun blasts from a 12 gauge Mossberg shotgun; both bodies were nude. Police believed Snider raped and murdered Stratten, abused the corpse, then killed himself with the same shotgun.

Stratten is buried at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery in Los Angeles.

Read more about this topic:  Dorothy Stratten

Famous quotes containing the word murder:

    Lizzie Borden took an axe
    And gave her mother forty whacks;
    When she saw what she had done,
    She gave her father forty-one.
    —Anonymous. Late 19th century ballad.

    The quatrain refers to the famous case of Lizzie Borden, tried for the murder of her father and stepmother on Aug. 4, 1892, in Fall River, Massachusetts. Though she was found innocent, there were many who contested the verdict, occasioning a prodigious output of articles and books, including, most recently, Frank Spiering’s Lizzie (1985)

    A joke, even if it be a lame one, is nowhere so keenly relished or quickly applauded as in a murder trial.
    Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835–1910)

    Your kind doesn’t just kill men. You murder their spirits, you strangle their last breath of hope and freedom, so that you, the chosen few, can rule your slaves in ease and luxury. You’re a sadist just like the others, Heiser, with no resource but violence and no feeling but fear, the kind you’re feeling now. You’re drowning, Heiser, drowning in the ocean of blood around this barren little island you call the New Order.
    Curtis Siodmak (1902–1988)