Molecules of Death

A Taste for Poison is Neil Bradbury’s book featuring eleven substances that have been employed by poisoners trying to get away with murder. Each of the short eleven chapters features a historical vignette, how the poison affects the human body, how the murders were eventually solved, and assorted bonus tidbits about the molecules in question. The eleven substances are insulin, atropine, strychnine, aconite, ricin, digoxin, cyanide, potassium, polonium, arsenic, and chlorine. The prose is brisk and engaging. I enjoyed it even more than the Deborah Blum books.

 

There are two references to Harry Potter. The first mentions Snape’s taunting of Harry in his first Potions class: “What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?” Snape answers his own question – that they are different names for aconite. Bradbury’s book explains the names: “an attractive plant, with tall spikes of hooded purple or blue blooms… the flowers look rather like the cowls worn by medieval monks… [and] use of the plant as an arrow poison for hunting wolves and other dangerous carnivores.” The root of the Greek word means “sharp dart… the tips of which were coated with poison”. And apparently in Homer’s Iliad (which I’ve read, but no longer remember), “the noxious drool from [Cerberus, three-headed dog of the underworld]’s three snarling snouts fell upon the ground, and immediately poisonous aconite plants sprang up.” No mention of that about Fluffy in the Harry Potter books.

 

The second reference is Alnwick Castle located in the northeast of England: “The castle, used as a backdrop in several Harry potter films, possesses an unusual attraction that would not be out of place in Harry’s Hogwarts. Among the manicured formal gardens and cascading fountains is a garden surrounded by high walls and guarded by ornate heavy iron gates. Emblazoned above the entrance is a sign warning visitors, ‘These Plants Can Kill’. Escorted visitors are prohibited from smelling, touching or tasting any of the plants…” Snape would have loved it. But why would anyone keep such plants? It turns out that several of the poisons featured in this book also have therapeutic purposes. A mantra repeated throughout the book is that it’s the dose that makes the poison. Aconite is in fact used in some herbal pain remedies but the danger is that there isn’t a big difference between a pain-remedy dose and a fatal one.

 

The chapter I found most interesting was on arsenic. The first vignette features the murderous Borgias, one of whom managed to become pope, and enriched himself by murdering off cardinals with arsenic. The second vignette features the Austrian region of Styria (tidbit: where Arnold Schwarzenegger hails from). Apparently, the alpine peasants regularly consumed it and built up a tolerance. They argued that this “helped them breathe better at the high altitude, … aided digestion, prevented disease, and increased their sexual potency.” Apparently arsenic “does stimulate the production of hemoglobin… and may provide a clue as to the Styrians’ claim that arsenic helped them breathe better at high altitudes.”

 

I didn’t know that arsenic was, for many years, fed to chickens and made them “appear plump and pink”. Nor did I know that the bodies of dead Styrians stayed well preserved because the high arsenic content killed putrefying bacteria. I also learned that the “Styrian defense was a boon to defense lawyers and was used in many trials” to argue that “arsenic found in a dead body was not evidence of foul play but a sign that the victim was an arsenic eater who took the powder as a tonic… Similarly, finding arsenic in the possession of an accused was not de facto evidence of malice, because she – and often the accused poisoner was a she – could have been applying the arsenic to her skin to improve her complexion.” The Styrian women claimed they used it to improve skin tone.

 

The main murder story in the arsenic chapter surrounds one wealthy socialite, Madeline Smith, in 1850s Scotland. There’s scandal, deception, and family connivings of Victorian society, and the arsenic was dispensed in cups of hot cocoa. The Styrian defense was raised during the trial. The final verdict was “not proven” which apparently meant that “Madeleine hadn’t been found innocent, but that the prosecution had not proved her guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.” In the aftermath, she changed her name, moved to England, later moved to New York, and “died at the ripe age of ninety-three.” Sometimes people do get away with murder.