A Passion for Poison

by Carol Ann Lee

  I still am not completely free of the risk of detection. If I were to be detected, I should have to follow the maxim, ‘Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.’507

  While her husband remained at home, incapacitated by his illness, Diana struggled into work on Friday, 22 October. She felt obliged to make sure the store was clean and tidy before a new employee started the following week and told herself that she would be able to rest over the weekend. She went about her duties that morning without too much difficulty, but the afternoon tea break saw her feeling ‘really ill and much worse’. She had been aware of pains in both legs above the knees; these increased in severity during the course of the day. Unable to finish her coffee, she then dashed to the bathroom: ‘When I came back from the toilet to the stores, Fred Biggs remarked how awful I looked and when I was talking to Fred, Graham came up from the bottom of the stores and said, “Are you not well, Di?” I said, “I feel bloody awful. I feel as if I want to get some air.”’508

  Diana walked unsteadily to the end of the stores, then leaned against the rolls of brown paper there, putting her head in her arms. Graham fetched her a paper cup of cold water and propped a chair against the back door, which was open. ‘Sit here for a while,’ he instructed. Diana did as she was told. He put one hand on her shoulder and passed her the cup. ‘Yes, you do look rough,’ he said. She nodded miserably, ‘I think I must have the flu coming.’509

  After quarter of an hour she could bear it no longer and informed Geoffrey Foster that she was going home. She recalled:

  I only live about 300 yards from the firm, but I felt as if I wasn’t going to make it. I really felt rotten. I staggered in the back door, threw my bag down. I still had my coat on and I made a rush for the toilet, which is just inside the back door. I was violently sick and at the time had severe diarrhoea – I noticed that when I started the diarrhoea the pain in my stomach got really worse. I noticed the pain spread right up my stomach to under the armpits. I was in there at first for about 10 minutes – I was doubled up on the floor, I was trying to be sick in the toilet and at the same time I had violent diarrhoea – I didn’t know which end of me to concentrate on.510

  Her sons returned home from school to find their mother weeping and groaning on her way to the bedroom. Alarmed, they ran together to Hadlands and found May Bartlett, telling her that their mother was seriously unwell. In the meantime, Diana had rushed back into the bathroom, where she collapsed on the floor with her head on the porcelain rim of the toilet before she had to get up quickly: ‘I cleaned myself up a bit and then went and got a bucket from the kitchen and returned to the toilet. I was in there when May Bartlett came in. My husband in the meantime had realised I was home. He came to the toilet and he and May wondered what to do. Norman rang for the doctor, Dr Anderson, but he did not attend and he instructed I be kept on fluids as I had the “Bovingdon Bug”.’511

  Diana spent the evening sitting either in or near to the toilet, making frequent trips as the ‘Bovingdon Bug’ took hold. Feeling as if her entire body were drained, she retired to bed that night at 10pm, but had to get up twice again to visit the bathroom. The following morning, one of her work colleagues visited to check up on her. Throughout the day, Diana remained nauseous and suffered attacks of diarrhoea. Each time a new bout began, she would be assailed by a stabbing sensation in her lower abdomen, similar to labour pains in their severity. She managed to make it to the village pharmacy, where Mr Jenkins, the chemist, sold her a mixture of kaolin and morphine, which she was unable to keep down.

  In Harlow, Jethro Batt had returned to the surgery, where he was seen by Dr Merton Long, who found him to be suffering from abdominal pain, distension and wind. He gave him a repeat prescription for a medicine to stop the discomfort caused by the flatulence, and Batt headed home, wondering how much longer he would be able to manage his symptoms.

  While his victims were in agony, Graham took a bus down to Sheerness to visit his family on Saturday, 23 October. ‘He arrived at 6pm on that day,’ Win recalled. ‘His father’s birthday was on Monday 25th October 1971 and he brought him down a present. I went with my husband and Graham to the Victoria Working Men’s Club. I can remember Graham bringing us a drink on a tray. He went downstairs to the bar for us. I had a lemon and lime. He brought my husband a glass of Courage light ale and he had a pint of beer.’512 The weekend passed pleasantly, but on Monday morning Jack Jouvenat found himself feeling distinctly off colour, light-headed and nauseous. He was unable to eat that day, but by evening he had recovered.

  Graham was not thought to be responsible for his uncle’s brief illness, but there was no doubt his colleagues were suffering the effects of his obsession with poison. When he arrived at work on Monday morning, he found both Diana and Batt absent, but Norman Smart was once more present and reassured those who asked that his wife was starting to feel better after a distinctly horrible weekend. Graham asked secretary Mary Berrow and his workmate Peter Buck if there was any news on Tilson’s condition. They both told him what little they knew from Mrs Tilson, but Buck was surprised when Graham remarked, ‘I understand he’s losing his hair.’513 The alopecia was one element of Tilson’s illness that had not been mentioned generally at Hadlands. Buck replied with a puzzled frown, ‘Apparently so.’514

  On Tuesday, 26 October, while Diana, Tilson and Batt all remained absent from the store, Fred Biggs fell ill. Annie Biggs was with her husband and Graham for most of that day, but lost sight of her husband for some time around 5pm, when another colleague informed her that Fred was in the toilet, feeling very poorly. ‘He was sick and had diarrhoea and pain in his tummy,’ Annie recalled. ‘Fred went straight to bed as soon as we arrived home. I did not disturb him and heard no more from him until about 9pm when he came out of the bedroom and sat and watched television. He told me that he had slept. I asked him how he was and he said, “All right now.” He refused anything to eat or drink.’515 Fred slept well that night but visited his doctor the following morning. ‘He complained of headache and tingling in his fingers,’ Dr Robert Nevill confirmed. ‘On examination at this time I found nothing abnormal. He appeared to be suffering from a virus infection. He was extremely worried about his condition. I felt that these symptoms could be due to anxiety. I prescribed Valium tablets.’516

  Jethro Batt also consulted his doctor, who ordered a blood test and an X-ray of his abdomen. Diana Smart had recovered sufficiently to return to work on Wednesday, 27 October. She continued to suffer intermittent pains in her legs and a dull headache, but other than that, was quite well. ‘Graham asked me how I was,’ she recalled. ‘I told him that I’d had this diarrhoea and sickness all the weekend. He showed interest in this and kept asking me questions about my ailments and seemed rather surprised to think it had lasted so long and questioned to what extent the pain was.’517

  ‘Haven’t you got any idea what it can be?’ he asked.

  She shook her head, ‘No, but if it’s the “Bovingdon Bug” it’s a bugger. I don’t want it again. I thought I was going to die.’

  He made a joke about the possibility of losing her hair. She took it in good part, responding, ‘It wouldn’t bloody worry me so long as I don’t get the pain I had over the weekend. I can always get a wig, can’t I?’

  Graham laughed, ‘Yes, I suppose you could. It wouldn’t worry you then?’

  ‘Not really,’ she said, ‘It seems to affect the older ones worse than the younger ones.’

  Graham put his head on one side, as if considering her remark. ‘David Tilson’s only 21, isn’t he?’

  Diana murmured that he was right, then left to get on with her work. Later that day, while they were discussing the various ailments going around the place, she teased him in semi-seriousness, ‘I reckon you are the germ carrier.’

  Graham retorted, ‘So could you be if it came to that, but then if it’s the “Bovingdon Bug”, I don’t live in Bovingdon.’

  Diana recalled: ‘He didn’t seem to take any offence of whatever I sai
d to him.’518 But she, like others, had begun to question what was happening at the Hadland stores. And suddenly, events took an even darker turn.

  Chapter Seventeen

  IS THAT POISON TOO?

  T

  HE MAN WHOM Graham originally intended to poison before turning his attention to Jethro Batt, Wembley-based delivery driver John Durrant, arrived on the afternoon of Thursday, 28 October for the second of his twice-weekly visits to Hadlands. Since Bob Egle’s death, Durrant had dealt with Graham, although he could not recall ever asking or being told his name. He found him ‘rather interesting to talk to – he appeared to be quite a knowledgeable person’.519 Delivering the order from his employers, Ryman’s stationers in Watford, Durrant would take the boxes into the stores where Graham checked them in and signed the delivery sheet. If Durrant’s arrival coincided with the Hadlands’ tea break, then he would have a brew and a biscuit himself.

  On this particular Thursday, Durrant accepted a cup of tea from Graham and began telling him of an incident that had occurred at home. He recalled: ‘My wife put some cleaning agent down the toilet. This stuff didn’t work very well so she immediately put a different one down and a gas was given off which nearly knocked her and myself out. The storekeeper then started talking about this and asked me if it was some form of salts she had been using, because if so, some of them were toxic. He intimated that he was interested in these sorts of things and that he made a study of them. I was lost by the conversation as he was using very technical terms, more like a laboratory technician.’520 Durrant finished his tea before he left, noticing that it had ‘a tang to it, as if it was stewed’.521

  The following morning, Durrant woke up with ‘a very bad headache. This started during the night, when I woke up with a sore head and a feeling of nausea. I took a couple of headache tablets and went back to bed, but I was unable to sleep as I still felt bad. My head was thumping, it hurt when I tried to turn it and I could not stand bright light.’522 On rising from his bed he felt ‘a terrible aching sensation in my back, just below the left shoulder blade. It was so bad that I had to be helped to dress. This pain remained with me in a severe state for about two days and, all in, for about a week. I did not go to the doctor as I thought it was only a pulled muscle as there were no other symptoms with it.’523 He drove to work but the pain grew worse, and he was unable to concentrate. He returned home at 2pm and retired to bed. He remained there until the following afternoon. By Monday he was quite well again.

  In the meantime, David Tilson had been discharged from hospital. Initially, he felt much improved but within 48 hours his condition began to deteriorate. Over the last weekend in October he had palpitations, difficulty breathing and sudden alopecia. Baffled and alarmed by his failing health, he called the local surgery, who dispatched Dr Richardson to his home. He found nothing noticeably wrong but advised bed rest and plenty of fluids. He was visited again the following day by Dr Richardson’s partner, Dr John Porterfield, who listened to Tilson’s complaints of pains everywhere, a racing heartbeat and nausea. He prescribed vitamin tablets, recalling that Tilson was ‘depressed on account of his hair falling out. There were large patches of baldness on his head, and he complained of pins and needles in the left arm and leg. It was difficult to make a diagnosis with his neuritis. I thought the most likely cause was a viral infection and gave him Multi-Vite to stimulate the growth of his hair.’524

  On Saturday, 30 October, Fred and Annie Biggs worked overtime in the WIP section to finish the stocktaking while Graham, Geoffrey Foster and George Janouch were busy in the main store. Janouch suggested a cup of tea and Graham went off to make it for everyone, having already taken possession of the key to May Bartlett’s tea room. After finishing work at midday that Saturday, Annie and Fred changed into smarter clothes at home and caught a train into London, where they watched a ballroom-dancing competition at Grosvenor House in Park Lane and ate a good meal before travelling home. It would be their last carefree outing together.

  The following day was Halloween and Graham penned a ghoulishly callous passage in his diary that made it clear Fred Biggs was living on borrowed time:

  There is much to communicate since my last entry. Di, who I afflicted with a mild attack of gastroenteritis on October 20th, was subject to a further indisposition on the 22nd, the results of which caused violent vomiting and diarrhoea throughout the weekend. I believe she is now suitably chastened.

  D though he is now discharged from hospital is still unwell, so I do not expect to see him for some time. His illness was finally diagnosed as an ‘unidentified virus’. J is still off work suffering from a similarly mysterious virus. It is unlikely that the symptoms will recede with any great rapidity. I shall not expect to see him for the next week/fortnight.

  F [Fred Biggs] whom I grew to like, has been the most recent subject of my attentions. I have administered a fatal dose of the ‘special’ [thallium] compound to him and anticipate reports of his illness on Monday (1st Nov). He should die within the week: his death being attributed to A.I.P [acute intermittent porphyria]. I gave him three separate doses, each of about 5/6grs. The total absorbed should be about 15/16grs which constitutes a lethal dose.525

  There could be no misinterpreting Graham’s words. He had laced Fred Biggs’ tea with thallium the day before, and by Sunday morning, it had begun to take effect; the senior storeman asked his wife to call out Dr Newell without explaining precisely what ailed him. Annie was reluctant because it was Sunday; to her surprise, Fred himself made an appointment, then drove out to see his GP. He returned home with antibiotics, but still would not explain his symptoms to his wife, who ‘understood that he was worried and thought it best not to question him as he was so obviously trying not to frighten me. That day Fred ate no breakfast and hardly touched his lunch. He took the tablets prescribed and slept quite well that night.’526

  Graham had been due to see Dr Udwin at the end of October. The psychiatrist was too preoccupied with other patients prior to a holiday in Barbados and decided to postpone his meeting with Graham until his return, ‘previous interviews having been so satisfactory I was entirely confident that he was doing well’.527 But Graham’s mental state shocked his sister when he visited her that evening. She later described it as both ‘heart-rending and traumatic, recalling that she mistakenly thought he had been drinking when he arrived, due to seeming “a bit wobbly”.’528 He sat down and tried to make conversation for quarter of an hour, then stood up abruptly and mumbled that he was leaving. Winifred asked him what was wrong and implored him to sit down and talk over a cup of tea.

  To her alarm, Graham burst into tears, crying noisily, and was unable to speak. She did her best to comfort him, but it took a long time before he managed to blurt out something that came as ‘an immense revelation’ to her: ‘He said he was lonely and could not “get close to people”. I attempted to break his depression by suggesting a number of conventional things that might help – such as joining a night school. He shook his head. “No,” he said, and I shall never forget his words. “Nothing like that can help. You see, there’s a terrible coldness inside me.”’529

  David Tilson was re-admitted to hospital on the afternoon of Monday, 1 November 1971. He was seen by Dr Ann Penny again, who found him to be suffering from severe alopecia; gently touching his scalp resulted in clumps of hair coming away from his crown. He also had the same symptoms as before, but milder with a tachycardia (fast pulse) and slight temperature. ‘Treatment was given as before plus sedation,’ Dr Penny recalled. ‘On both occasions that Mr Tilson was in hospital no definite diagnosis was made. However, we did think that it could be viral myalgia. During both admissions, on my instructions, samples of blood, urine and hair were obtained from Mr Tilson. These samples were later handed to the police.’530 Jethro Batt also remained very ill. His doctor visited him at home, where his symptoms now included constipation. Dr Long prescribed him a laxative and told him that the results of his blood tests suggested a virus infectio
n. No abnormality was revealed from the X-ray.

  Graham recorded the few details he had managed to glean regarding the sufferings of Tilson and Batt:

  November 1st. Some new developments: D has relapsed and has been re-admitted to hospital. A fresh, and to me, disturbing symptom has appeared. He has commenced to lose hair which, though at present only slight, is likely to progress to alopecia totalis. This may be attributed to a viral/metabolic cause, and probably will be, but it is remotely possible that one of the attendant physicians may be sufficiently familiar with the symptoms and signs of my compound that he will gain a clue of the causal factor involved. It is unlikely that excretion is still taking place as the dosage was small and over weeks have elapsed since ingestion, but I must keep myself closely informed through P [Peter Buck] and M [Mary Berrow] in order to take appropriate action if necessary.

  J is apparently suffering from quite pronounced muscular weakness and finds his legs still carry him only a short way before loss of power occurs. As yet he has not developed alopecia but doubtless it will occur. In his case suspicion of poison would be especially dangerous. Luckily experience of the drug is very limited in this country. Its use is strictly controlled and only a handful of doctors would have come into contact with it.

  I can, as yet, report little of F. He was not at work today, and his wife telephoned to say that he had caught a ‘bug’ and that she was taking him to the doctor. The onset of symptoms was apparently quite sudden and seems to have occurred on Sunday when his absence from the bar was noted at the Club. As the dosage was divided into three separate quantities, spanning a period of 24 hours, the onset was likely to have been less dramatic but a quite sudden deterioration is to be expected leading to paralysis, organic brain disease and death within a week. I shall be interested to see what transpires tomorrow.531