A Passion for Poison

by Carol Ann Lee

  ‘This?’

  ‘A mixture of ammonia, ether and iodine and a very small quantity of formaldehyde.’

  ‘What used for?’

  Graham shook his head slightly, ‘No particular use, merely stock.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Concentrated sulphuric acid from St Albans.’

  ‘What used for?’

  ‘Not used at all,’ Graham replied. ‘It’s a very powerful reducing agent and just a stock item.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘I don’t recollect the contents. Probably hydrobromic acid.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Nitro-hydrochloric acid. I didn’t purchase that, actually. I can’t remember where it came from.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Sulphuric acid – stock again.’

  ‘This one?’

  ‘Ammonia solution.’

  ‘This bottle?’

  ‘Lead acetate originally but I may have put something else in it. It’s merely an acetate and can be used as an agent. Its toxic effect is very small and its acute toxicity is relatively low.’

  ‘Did you use this on any of your victims?’

  ‘No, I didn’t use it.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Hydrochloric acid – another stock item.’

  ‘Why do you have this carbon tetrachloride?’

  ‘Merely for dry cleaning.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Potassium ferrocyanide. I didn’t use them all for converting to Prussian blue. I only used small quantities.’

  Harvey frowned, then continued, ‘This?’

  ‘Sodium tartrate mixed with antimony salt.’

  ‘Was this supplied to any of your victims?’

  ‘Yes, Di Smart.’ Now Graham frowned, ‘I thought you were going to leave that part of the questioning till later?’

  ‘Yes, as you wish,’ said Harvey. ‘We’ll go on. This?’

  ‘Formaldehyde solution – stock.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘I’m not certain whether it’s chloride of lime or potassium oxalate used in lavatory cleaner.’

  Harvey pointed to a discoloured jar: ‘What does this contain?’

  ‘Probably green peas or onions.’

  Harvey raised his eyebrows, then continued, ‘This?’

  ‘Prussian blue.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Again, green peas or onions.’

  ‘This tumbler?’

  ‘Probably traces of Hirondelle and white wine.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘A solution of nicotine – very weak.’

  Harvey pointed at a smaller bottle, ‘Is this ether?’

  ‘It’s not ether. It contains a quantity of hydrochloric acid and iodine. Hydrochloric acid is very noxious but there’s not much left.’

  Harvey indicated another bottle: ‘This?’

  ‘Nitric acid.’

  ‘And this?’

  ‘Pure clean water,’ Graham replied. ‘Completely uncontaminated.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Aspirin.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Nitro-hydrochloric acid.’

  Harvey picked up a small bottle of tablets, ‘We found these in the roof space.’

  ‘They’re not mine,’ Graham said. ‘I’ve never been up in the loft.’

  ‘What about this spoon?’ Harvey pointed to a utensil coated with white residue.

  ‘I don’t really know what that is. I used it for grinding up so many things.’

  ‘These tablets?’

  ‘Bismuth of nitrate tablets – antacid.’

  ‘What use?’

  ‘To allay stomach irritation.’

  ‘This?’

  ‘Prussian blue.’

  ‘This box?’

  ‘That’s detergent powder, Superintendent.’

  ‘This snuff – is it snuff?’

  ‘Yes, it’s mentholated snuff, nothing else.’

  Harvey then picked up a bottle. ‘What does this contain?’

  Graham admitted, ‘That contains a residue of thallium.’

  ‘And these smelling salts – did you give them to anyone?’

  ‘It’s just ammonia solution in cotton wool. I did say to a couple of people, “have a smell”. I was using it myself because I had a cold. Nothing toxic.’

  Harvey pointed to another bottle, ‘This?’

  ‘It originally had ether in it. It’s probably ammoniate iodine.’ He corrected himself, ‘No, it can’t be that – I don’t know.’

  ‘Can we revert to the antimony?’ Harvey asked.

  Graham replied, ‘Before we continue, do you think I could have a glass of water?’

  ‘What’s this formula first?’

  ‘I imagine it’s some metallic compound.’ Graham squinted, ‘I can see salts . . . Oh, I can’t tell you – it’s so long ago.’614

  Graham was given a glass of water and a very short break. Chief Superintendent Harvey sat down and began questioning him from the prepared sheet, referring back to the bottles and containers on the desk.

  ‘When your room was searched on Saturday evening, these items were found. Regarding the antimony sodium tartrate, does that bottle contain anything else?’

  ‘Yes, it also contains antimony potassium tartrate.’

  ‘Did you administer it to anybody?’

  ‘Yes, Peter Buck, Diana Smart, Ron Hewitt, Trevor Sparkes.’

  ‘Why did you give those people this poison?’

  Graham pursed his lips, ‘At present I prefer not to answer the question.’

  Harvey nodded. ‘The phial which you said contained thallium – where did you obtain it?’

  ‘I obtained the thallium from John Bell & Croyden.’

  ‘Did you sign the poison register?’

  ‘Yes, using the alias M E Evans.’

  ‘Did you give a reason for requiring thallium?’

  ‘Yes, for qualitive and quantitive analysis.’

  ‘To whom did you administer thallium?’

  Graham gave a small smile, ‘Well, of course you know the answer to that.’

  ‘Why did you give it to them?’

  ‘I prefer not to answer that question.’

  Harvey let it pass. ‘We also found a phial in the top pocket of a jacket on a chair in your room. The substance in the phial has been analysed and found to be thallium and aspirin.’

  ‘Yes – the thallium had been in the phial previously and the aspirin is a method of gauging grainage.’

  ‘Did you administer this substance to anybody?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why did you have it?’

  ‘It’s just an old phial which contained a residue of thallium.’

  ‘There was another phial on the windowsill that was almost empty but contained particles of thallium.’

  Graham shook his head slowly, ‘I think we’ve misunderstood each other. The phial on the windowsill contained a residue of thallium; the brown phial in my jacket pocket contained in excess of a fatal dose of thallium.’

  Harvey nodded, ‘All right. Where did you obtain the thallium?’

  ‘It was my original purchase from John Bell & Croyden.’

  Harvey returned to Graham’s previous reply, ‘Why did you have a fatal dose of thallium in your jacket pocket?’

  Graham lifted his hands and wiggled his index fingers, ‘It was my “exit” dose, but I didn’t have a chance to use it. I hadn’t anticipated being arrested in Sheerness.’

  Harvey then reached for Graham’s sketches. One showed a man with a full head of hair, then thinning hair, followed by a bald head and, finally, a grave. There was also a drawing of an evil-looking genie escaping from a bottle of poison. Another sketch depicted a graveyard where two left hands poured poison into a couple. Harvey asked him about each drawing. Graham replied that the sketch of the genie was ‘a symbolic depiction’ of the fictional tale he was writing about death by thallium (in other words, his diary).615 The sketches of the man losing his hair before death wa
s, Graham insisted, ‘Just a rather macabre drawing I did under the influence of ether.’616

  Harvey set aside the drawings and pointed towards two jars containing dead wasps. ‘I understand you caught these wasps at the factory. It’s been said that you were extremely interested in watching them die. Is this some experiment you were carrying out?’

  Graham shook his head, ‘No, it was merely a method of keeping down wasps – trapping them or, rather, causing them to be trapped in a solution of sugar.’

  Harvey then switched subject: ‘In your diary you seem concerned about Fred Biggs not dying as quickly as you anticipated. You seemed particularly concerned that, if he continued to survive, symptoms would become apparent that could connect Biggs’ illness with those of Tilson and Batt.’ Harvey paused. ‘You say that you administered thallium to Biggs and antimony to Tilson and Batt, if this is so why were you worried about the symptoms being connected?’

  ‘I’m sorry, it was a slip of the tongue,’ Graham replied. ‘I gave Tilson and Batt thallium, not antimony.’

  ‘Why did you give thallium to some and antimony to others?’

  ‘Antimony is a less toxic material, more rapidly eliminated from the system, and unlikely in sub-lethal dosage to cause any lasting ill effect.’

  ‘How did you select who should have which poison?’

  Graham was silent a moment, then said, ‘I prefer at present not to answer the question.’

  ‘Fine. Reverting to what you said last night, when you claimed you had only administered thallium to three persons, is it now correct that you administered thallium to five people?’

  ‘Yes, five and only five.’

  ‘Was it administered in the same form?’

  ‘No, in four instances it was given in a crystalline form and one instance in a liquid form.’

  ‘Would you care to enumerate who had what?’

  Without hesitation, Graham responded, ‘In chronological order: the four crystalline ones were my stepmother, Bob Egle, Jeff Batt and Fred Biggs; the solution was given to David Tilson. The quantities were approximately in the first instance 20 grains, in the second approximately eight in two doses. In the third approximately four grains. In the fourth instance, probably between five and six. In the fifth, approximately 18 in three doses.’

  ‘Did you measure the thallium against the aspirin we have mentioned?’

  ‘Yes, in an inexact measure.’

  Harvey then said, ‘You told me yesterday that you had killed your stepmother by poisoning her with thallium. At that time you were a boy of only 15 or 14 and thallium was a relatively unknown poison here. Where did you first hear of it?’

  Graham was circumspect: ‘It’s still relatively unused in this country. It is used in the manufacture of certain types of highly refractive optical glassware, but it’s no longer used as a rodenticide. It was at one time used to check night sweats in cases of tuberculosis.’

  Harvey looked at him, clearly perplexed, ‘Where on earth did you learn of this as a schoolboy?’

  ‘Through my researches into toxicology.’

  Harvey gave a bemused shake of the head, then went on, ‘In your diary you say that there are few doctors here capable of identifying the substance you had administered. Were you then referring to thallium, which you also call your “special compound”?’

  ‘Yes, I was referring to thallium, but not to a doctor’s ability to identify it by forensic analysis. I meant that few doctors in this country have had experience of thallium poisoning – as a consequence, they’d find it difficult to identify its characteristic symptoms.’

  Harvey then revealed, ‘We’ve spoken to Trevor Sparkes. He told us that you used to give him wine. Was the poison in that?’

  Graham nodded, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sparkes also says that you gave wine to others, including a man named Ted James and a man nicknamed “Yorky”. Did you give them poison?’

  Graham frowned, ‘No. I did not.’617

  With that, Harvey had completed his list of questions. It was 9:30pm. Graham read each page of the interview transcript very carefully, but when asked if he wanted to add his signature, he politely declined. Half an hour later, Detective Chief Superintendent Harvey stood before Graham and charged him with the following offence: ‘That you did, on or about 19th November 1971, at Bovingdon in the County of Hertfordshire, murder Frederick Ernest William Biggs, against the Peace.’618 Asked for his response, Graham shook his head, ‘I have no wish to say anything.’619

  The following morning, news of the case broke in the national press.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  SWIFT AS QUICKSILVER

  L

  OCAL NEWSPAPER THE Evening Echo had been first on the scene at Hadlands. As a former councillor, Fred Biggs was well known in the area, and the suspicious nature of his death, coupled with the revelation that Bob Egle, another Hadlands store worker, had died only four months earlier, caused considerable interest. The reporter spoke to members of staff at the firm and linked the story to one about possible radioactive contamination from the nearby airfield, unaware that it was actually a murder inquiry.

  The Daily Mirror knew more but made no mention of Graham by name in their front-page story on Tuesday, 23 November. Under the headline ‘Poison Probe CID Halt Funeral’, the Mirror revealed: ‘Detectives halted arrangements for the funeral of a laboratory worker yesterday – and launched a murder inquiry into his death. The man, 56-year-old Fred Biggs, was killed by a mystery illness . . . ’ The funeral had been delayed because of the post-mortem. Chief Superintendent Harvey spoke to a Daily Mirror reporter but divulged little: ‘Inquiries are being made into two recent deaths, and we are awaiting the results of forensic tests. A man is helping with our inquiries.’

  The man in question appeared before Hemel Hempstead Magistrates’ Court early that morning, charged with the murder of Fred Biggs. Graham was represented by a local solicitor, John Pickworth, who had been engaged at the suggestion of Hertfordshire Constabulary. Remanded in custody for one week, Graham would remain in his cell at Hemel Hempstead police station until further charges could be brought.

  As Graham was driven back to Combe Road, Detective Constable Michael Grinsted received a number of items from the son of his last victim, Fred Biggs. These, together with blood, urine and semen samples from surviving victims, were conveyed to Nigel Fuller at the Metropolitan Police Forensic Science Laboratory. At the same time, police photographer John Mackintosh returned to 29 Maynard Road to shoot exterior images before driving on to Bovingdon, where he made four negatives of the Hadlands factory.

  Chief Superintendent Harvey sent for Graham after lunch. Handing him a cigarette, he enquired, ‘Have you slept well?’620 Graham replied politely, ‘I have, thank you.’ They sat down together and Harvey recited the now familiar words: ‘I wish to put some further questions to you about the offences with which you will be charged. You are not obliged to answer any of the questions, but if you do, the questions and answers will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence.’ That done, he began in earnest, ‘Right, I’ve now got information about several employees at Hadlands, all of whom were sick during the time you worked there. I’m not suggesting that you’re responsible for all these people becoming ill, but some of them are married women and four are pregnant. If they’ve had thallium or antimony during their pregnancy, then there’s a considerable risk. Are you prepared to tell me if you’ve given poison to anybody other than those we have so far discussed?’

  Graham gave a nod, ‘I’m prepared to tell you.’ After listening to the roll call of names, he replied, ‘I did not give poison to any of those ladies.’

  ‘Good,’ said Harvey. ‘Now, in your diary you write of “R”. That’s John Durrant of Ryman’s. He says that he had tea in the stores when you were present and afterwards he became ill.’

  ‘I wasn’t responsible for his illness.’

  Harvey made a note. ‘These are also people who’ve been ill, and some o
f their symptoms were similar to those who have been poisoned: Alexander Charlmaros, Roland Edwards, John Parker, Norman Smart, Phillip Doggett, Reginald Sharp, Michael Hadland, Duncan Poulton, John Rendell.’ He paused. ‘There are others.’

  ‘To the best of my knowledge and belief their illnesses were due to natural causes.’

  ‘I understand that you admire Hitler and sometimes argued about him with workmates? The arguments are said to have become quite heated. Did you, as some form of revenge, ever administer poison en masse by way of the tea or coffee, or the drinking water, or any other medium?’

  ‘No. These arguments were conducted without rancour on my part and I did nothing to harm anybody as you suggest.’

  Satisfied with Graham’s replies, Harvey asked him if he would sign the transcript of their conversation. As before, he declined.621

  But Graham’s name now entered the public domain for the second time as a potential mass poisoner. On Wednesday, 24 November 1971, the Daily Express ran a front-page story headlined ‘Murder Charge’, reporting: ‘Storeman Graham Young, aged 24, of Maynard Road, Hemel Hempstead, Herts., was remanded in custody yesterday accused of murdering local councillor Frederick Biggs. Young, accused of killing 56-year-old Mr Biggs, a storeman with John Hadland Photographic Instrumentation of Bovington “on or about” last Friday, appears in court at Hemel Hempstead again next Wednesday.’622

  Despite the story, as yet no one had publicly linked Graham’s second spate of poisonings with those of ten years before. But the Home Office were now aware of the matter and the relevant department, C3, scrambled to make sense of the incomprehensible. Division C3 were responsible for helping ministers to enforce the Home Secretary’s powers and implement his duties under mental health legislation – especially in relation to offenders detained in psychiatric hospitals whose leave, transfer or discharge was subject to Home Office consent. The archived papers suggest that the department only learned of Graham’s repeated offences after reading the national press. An internal memo warns of ‘a very serious development in the case of a patient conditionally discharged from Broadmoor earlier this year’. Following a precis of events, the memo states that Dr McGrath had been contacted to explain the circumstances of Graham’s discharge from Broadmoor, concluding: ‘The newspaper reports make no reference of course to Young’s previous history. In the event of his conviction, however, there may well be adverse publicity critical of the decision to discharge.’623