The frighteningly unemotional tone of Graham’s diaries contrasted sharply with the reality of Fred’s illness. He felt too ill to rise other than when he needed the toilet: after telling his wife that the ends of his toes hurt, he admitted he had pains in his chest, which was why he had wanted to consult the doctor the previous Sunday. By the morning of Tuesday, 2 November 1971, his feet were so painful that even the weight of the bedclothes caused him to writhe in agony. A neighbour called in at 10pm when she had finished her shift at a local hospital; she made a cradle to keep the blankets off Fred’s legs and told Annie to call Dr Newell first thing the following morning. Annie slept in a spare bedroom in the hope that they would both be able to sleep better, but her husband was ill during the night and she kept checking in on him.
Annie rang the surgery shortly after 9am. Dr Newell called in twice to check on her husband and during his second visit, at 7pm, he told her that Fred would be admitted to hospital the following morning. ‘By this time, Fred’s condition seemed to have deteriorated,’ Annie recalled. ‘He still only told me of pain in his feet, but he was quite unable to stand and he did not want anything to eat. He slept very fitfully that night.’532
Graham updated his diary that evening. His entry reveals that he was beginning to fear discovery and that he had his own drastic plan if that came to pass:
November 3rd. Disturbing events. Apparently D’s hair loss was almost total and the hospital authorities advanced the view that D’s illness may be due ‘to some kind of poisoning’. This is a very dangerous path for them to explore. Today, H spoke to D’s mother and told me that the doctors are advancing all sorts of wild theories but they still seem to believe that the illness is a virus-based infection. I naturally hope that this is correct. They are running a fresh series of tests and the inescapable conclusion is that they will test for poison, possibly the compound, if only to exclude the possibility of a toxic cause. Whether or not their tests will prove negative depends upon a number of factors. 1. The skill and expertise of the analyst. 2. The quantity initially ingested. 3. The rate of excretion. If only a small quantity was ingested and I am sure that it could not have exceeded five grains, then it may have been completely excreted by now. Excretion would have been going on for over three weeks and therefore may, by now, have ceased. If not, only a small quantity will be present in the urine, but even then by spectroscopy this could be detected. By chemical analysis it would quite possibly escape detection. The situation is fraught with danger and uncertainty and I must watch the situation extremely closely. If it seems inevitable that I shall be detected, then I shall have to destroy myself. There is no alternative.
F is now better. Apparently his symptoms are, at present, principally gastro-intestinal. This should extend to include neurological symptoms within a very short time now. Such symptoms normally develop within four or five days from the onset of gastro-enteric upset. His doctor apparently believes that the illness is identical to an outbreak of vomiting and diarrhoea which is presently sweeping the area. The events of the next few days will prove decisive. They will point either to my triumphal continuation of life or my destruction by my own hand.533
Fred’s condition deteriorated rapidly overnight. ‘He seemed so ill that he did not want to talk to me,’ his wife recalled.534 Dr Newell called round early that morning and noted a definite sensory loss and a paucity of reflexes in his legs and feet. The ambulance arrived shortly before midday. Annie accompanied her husband to Hemel Hempstead general hospital, where he was admitted to the Rutherford ward. Dr Anne Solomon was on duty and noted a variety of symptoms: dry, scaly skin over his face and shoulders, a flushed complexion, a blue tinge to his nose, a dry, furred tongue, reduced strength in his right arm and loss of sensation in all limbs. Annie stayed at her husband’s bedside until he was made comfortable, then returned home alone.
David Tilson was still in hospital, emaciated and ‘looking like a three-quarters-plucked chicken’ as Dr Cowan described him.535 The pattern of hair loss was ‘very unusual and significant’, prompting the doctors to ‘think of heavy metals and the possibility of thallium poisoning’.536 It was the first time anyone in authority had brought up poisoning, but there were other potential causes to be considered, including the home-brewed wine made by Tilson’s mother, but since she and everyone else who had tried it was fine, that too was ruled out. Tilson’s colleague, Jethro Batt, was also suffering and his symptoms left him unable to sleep at all. His doctor prescribed a mild sedative and arranged for him to be seen as an outpatient at Harlow hospital.
‘The situation is still very undecided,’ Graham wrote in his diary on 4 November 1971.
The latest report on D is that he is progressing and once again able to walk. The authorities are still uncertain of the cause of his illness. Apparently, they are not sure that it is poisoning, still half-inclined towards the virus theory. I imagine they will have sent specimens to the path lab for analysis, so all depends upon the results of those tests. A negative finding will re-confirm them in their viral diagnosis. A positive finding would prove disastrous to me. On that front the situation remains dangerous and uncertain.
On the other fronts the situation is more satisfactory. J is unchanged. He is confined to bed and his doctor has come to the conclusion that the illness is due to an unusual virus – in the absence of any positive results from the X-rays, blood tests, etc.
F was ill all over the weekend suffering from vomiting, abdominal pains, diarrhoea, etc. The initial phase has now passed and pains in the legs, etc., have developed. He apparently feels very unwell and his condition is said to be ‘not responding as well as hoped. The doctor has said that the illness is due to a virus and that there is quite a lot going around! Is somebody setting up in competition to me?!!!537
David Tilson was deemed sufficiently recovered to be discharged from hospital on Bonfire Night 1971. On the same day, his workmate Jethro Batt was admitted to Princess Alexandra hospital in Harlow, suffering from crippling pains in his stomach, chest and legs, numbness in the toes, loss of concentration, hallucinations and alopecia. He was examined by Dr Ahmed Abdulla, who recalled that the only abnormality they could find, other than problems with the patient’s spine caused by childhood tuberculosis, was the loss of hair ‘at a very fast rate’.538 Dr Abdulla stated that a formal diagnosis could not be made at that stage, but given Batt’s symptoms, he and his colleagues discussed three possibilities: Guillain-Barré syndrome, porphyria and lead poisoning. They carried out a number of investigations including bloods, urine tests, electrocardiograms and X-rays. ‘Following these tests, we were still puzzled by the diagnosis,’ Dr Abdulla recalled, ‘and requested the consultant neurologist on her opinion of the patient. She found no neurological abnormalities. In conclusion, when we had completed all our tests and investigations we could not put our finger on the diagnosis.’539
In Bovingdon, an atmosphere of fear and suspicion hung over Hadlands like a fog. ‘People were taking time off – one or two days, and then things started to get more serious,’ Anthony Oldham confirmed. ‘There was a particular occasion I remember when I was in one of the buildings looking out and somebody came rushing out of the doors and was violently ill on the grass outside which, looking back on it at the time, we thought, there’s something very extraordinary going on there . . . ’540 The entire mood of the place had changed, twisting in on itself until everyone dreaded having to go to work. Oldham explains: ‘We were a closed group, very trusting and understanding of each other, and suddenly you had this situation where somebody has been very, very malicious. Within a group like that it has a pretty profound effect on everybody. Horror, really, is the only way you can explain it.’541
Hadlands’ management were deeply concerned about the high rate of sickness among their employees and had to consider whether some form of industrial disease might be the cause. On the day Tilson left hospital and Batt was admitted, Geoffrey Foster telephoned Hertfordshire County Council, where he spoke to their
health and divisional medical officer, Dr Robert Stewart Hynd. Foster wanted to arrange a meeting in person to discuss what was happening at Hadlands but Dr Hynd was not available to visit until the following Friday. He informed Dr Dennis Trott, district medical officer for the HM Factory Inspectorate, about the situation. Trott arranged to look round the factory on Thursday, 11 November 1971.
Graham was making enquiries of his own. Mary Berrow, Hadlands’ secretary remembered:
When Mr Biggs was taken ill again, members of the staff came in asking about him, Graham included, but he did not press for more information, but was just given the bare facts that Mr Biggs was in hospital and very ill. I can recall that one evening just as I was preparing to go home about 5:30pm Graham came into my office and in his hand he had a copy of The Lancet. He handed this copy to me at the same time saying that he had been reading at the library the evening before about an illness in Japan and he thought it very interesting and similar to the illness which had taken place at the firm. I scanned the article very briefly, realised it was far too technical for me to understand and handed it back to him.542
Unable to glean much from Mrs Berrow, Graham pressed Peter Buck for information and when he, too, divulged only the barest of facts, he decided to take the extraordinary step of telephoning Annie Biggs, who recalled:
On Friday, 5 November 1971 at about 9:30pm, I was at home with my youngest son and daughter-in-law. I answered the telephone and a voice which I did not recognise said, ‘This is Graham from John Hadland.’ I realised then that he was the man in stores department who had been working with my husband.
Graham said, ‘I have just heard this afternoon that your husband is in hospital. As I live near St Paul’s, could I go and see him tomorrow?’
I said, ‘I am afraid you can’t, Graham, as he only wishes to see the family at the moment.’ I did not tell him my husband was seriously ill.
Then he said, ‘Well, could I go sometime next week?’ I said, ‘Oh I don’t know, I’ll see you at work sometime.’ He said, ‘All right, goodbye,’ and that was the end of the conversation.543
She was mildly surprised to hear from Graham and a little upset, especially because he sounded as though he had been drinking. To her relief, Graham made no further phone calls.
Graham visited his cousin Sandra and her two young boys the following afternoon. ‘Just about as soon as he arrived, he said to me, “We’ve got a funny virus at work.” I said, “What is it?” He said, “They don’t know, but this chap had pains in his arms and legs. He went to the doctor. He told him he thought it was flu started. One or two days later he woke up and he had lost the use of his legs. He was taken into hospital for a fortnight and he was all right while he was in there. When he came out it started again. Then all his hair fell out. This seems to happen at fortnightly intervals. The chap had very long hair before it all fell out.” I said, “Do they know what is causing it?” He said, “They think it is a virus of some sort.”’544 He seemed to be quite calm about the matter and spent the rest of his afternoon playing with the children.
On Monday, hospital patient Fred Biggs began vomiting and complaining of problems with his eyesight. Further tests were conducted and their results awaited. His vision became rapidly worse and, on 10 November, he was transferred to the neurological department of Whittington hospital in Highgate where he was placed under the care of Dr Michael Ashby, consultant neurologist and head of the department. ‘Mr Biggs was very seriously ill with general weakness and difficulty in breathing and swallowing,’ Dr Ashby recalled. ‘No obvious cause was found. We suspected toxic effects from some infection or poisonous substance. We telephoned the Poisons Reference Dept at Guy’s Hospital in an effort to relate his symptoms to any known poison but no satisfactory guidance could be given.’545
Graham once more turned to his diary as a sounding board for his thoughts:
Nov 10th. Fresh developments, some good, some not so good. D has been discharged from hospital. Analysis apparently proved negative and the authorities returned to their virus diagnosis. They are awaiting the results of the last cultures started just prior to his discharge and after negative results will presumably lose interest, recovery having taken place.
To counter-balance this, both J and F are now in hospital. J has developed severe alopecia, and has lost weight. The hospital is re-checking all the tests previously made. As yet they do not suspect an unnatural cause.
F must have a phenomenal tolerance to the compound for he is still obstinately alive. I can gain little information of his condition although I gather he is not at all well. There does not seem, at present, to be a direct threat to life: the next week will be critical in this respect. If he survives the third week he will live. This would be inconvenient. The hospital authorities do not seem to suspect poisoning. The fact that they are taking lumbar punctures, etc., would indicate that they are looking for a viral cause. There is, therefore, little development on this front at the moment.546
On Thursday, 11 November 1971, Dr Dennis Trott of the HM Factories Inspectorate visited Hadlands and launched a full investigation of the premises. Medical officer Dr Robert Stewart Hynd met with Geoffrey Foster the following day at Hadlands. They discussed the history of illness among the staff before Dr Hynd inspected the kitchen and dining facilities. It appears that Dr Trott had grown suspicious of Graham during his visit the day before; Dr Hynd later told detectives that it was ‘at Dr Trott’s suggestion’ that he visited the stores with Foster and spoke to storeman Graham Young. Diana Smart was present; she sat with her back to the three men but listened to every word.
Graham stood by nonchalantly, while Dr Hynd asked him a number of questions, including about his living arrangements. Graham told the medical officer that he lived in digs at 29 Maynard Road, but couldn’t remember the name of his landlord.
‘Surely, after living there for four months you know the name of your landlord?’ Dr Hynd said.547
‘I don’t know because I have all my meals out. I only sleep there.’
Dr Hynd remarked, ‘You must find this rather inconvenient.’
Graham shrugged, ‘I’ve got used to it and it doesn’t worry me.’548
‘Are there any children in the household?’
‘There are two young children.’
‘Has anyone been ill in that house?’
‘No.’
Dr Hynd paused, then said, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking these questions, but I am just as concerned for your health and household contacts as I am for the other people in the firm and their contacts.’
Graham inclined his head slightly and murmured his understanding, after which Hynd and Foster moved away. Dr Hynd recalled: ‘I informed Mr Foster that in view of my uncertainty of the true nature of the illnesses that I thought it would be wise to call an early conference of all the medical people involved. I felt that the diagnosis and the source of illnesses would be better established by a collective decision rather than by individual decisions. Arrangements were made for such a conference.’549
That Friday saw a sharp decline in Fred Biggs’ condition. When his wife visited the hospital she felt a stab of fear: ‘His eyes were closed and he could hardly speak.’550 Shortly afterwards, Fred was taken to the respiratory unit where an endotracheal tube was inserted to aid his swallowing. Difficulties with his breathing continued and he was then transferred to the respiratory unit at the National hospital, Queen Square, London. He was semi-conscious when he arrived and scarcely able to respond to the simplest of requests. Annie remained with her husband, but he was unable to utter a single word and almost certainly had no idea that she was there. Within 24 hours he had developed a high temperature and signs of pneumonia, for which he was given intravenous antibiotics. Dr John Meadows, resident medical officer at the National hospital, recalled: ‘The diagnosis at the time of his admission was polyneuritis (peripheral neuritis or polyneuropathy) and brain stem involvement. Normally there is no specific treatment for most forms of per
ipheral neuritis except for anti-inflammatory drugs . . . and the use of assisted respiration if the paralysis becomes severe. Both these were used in Mr Biggs’ case. The question of a toxic cause (chemical) was raised but no such cause could be verified.’551
While doctors battled to find out the cause of illness, Graham once more visited his cousin Sandra for the afternoon. He raised the subject of the virus again, adding, ‘Another chap’s got it now. I asked the secretary at work how this chap was. She said he had been taken into the Whittington hospital in London. Do you know it? It’s a hospital for neurological diseases.’552 Barely giving her a moment to reply, Graham went on, ‘I rang up the hospital to see how he was and they said they had no one of the name of Biggs there.’
‘They probably didn’t want to tell you because you’re not family,’ Sandra said.
Graham shook his head, ‘No, they would have said that. They said they had no one of that name. It’s strange, isn’t it? The only thing I can think of is that he has gone on to an intensive care unit. That doesn’t sound too good.’
Sandra told him she was sure his colleague would make a good recovery, but her words were interrupted by Graham, who said with some excitement, ‘I’ve had the doubtful pleasure of being introduced to the Medical Officer of Health of Hertfordshire at the factory. He’s making enquiries about the virus.’553
Sandra changed the subject and the rest of the afternoon passed much as it had the week before. But the conversation stuck in her mind, occurring as it had ‘the Sunday before he was arrested’.554
Chapter Eighteen
HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT POISONED?
G
RAHAM TOLD DIANA Smart on Monday, 15 November that he had tried finding out how Fred Biggs was getting on at the Whittington hospital only to be informed that there was no patient of that name on the wards. Later that morning, Graham mentioned it again. ‘He had been across to the offices,’ Diana remembered, ‘and said, “That would account for it then, Di.” I said, “What the bloody hell are you on about now?” He said, “Fred has been moved to the Nervous Disease Hospital. I wonder why they’ve moved him there.”
A Passion for Poison Page 23
