The Teacup Poisoner: A Biography of Serial Killer Graham Young
★★★ A page-turning true crime story ★★★
Graham Young had an unusual obsession from a young age. Where most youths might be interested in music and sports, Young was fascinated by poisons. By the age of 14, he was using his family (who, of course, didn't know) as experiments. In 1962, still a teen, his stepmother died from one of his poisoning experiments.
Young eventually confessed to the murder of his stepmother and the attempted murder of several other members of his family; he was sent to a mental hospital for nine years, where he was ultimately released fully recovered. Unknown to the hospital, however, Young was actually using his time in the mental hospital to study medical texts and improve his poisoning skills. His true work as a poisoner had only just begun!
This gripping narrative gives you a page-turning look at one of England's most notorious serial killers: Graham Young.
Graham Young had an unusual obsession from a young age. Where most youths might be interested in music and sports, Young was fascinated by poisons. By the age of 14, he was using his family (who, of course, didn't know) as experiments. In 1962, still a teen, his stepmother died from one of his poisoning experiments.
Young eventually confessed to the murder of his stepmother and the attempted murder of several other members of his family; he was sent to a mental hospital for nine years, where he was ultimately released fully recovered. Unknown to the hospital, however, Young was actually using his time in the mental hospital to study medical texts and improve his poisoning skills. His true work as a poisoner had only just begun!
This gripping narrative gives you a page-turning look at one of England's most notorious serial killers: Graham Young.
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Excerpt
Introduction
There are few things as British as a nice cup of tea. Starting when the first leaves were brought to England by Catherine of Braganza in the 1660s, and more significantly when British control of India expanded in the late 18th century, tea and the rituals surrounding it have influenced every area of British culture. By now it's hard to think of the people without also thinking of the drink. In fact, to the average Brit a cup of tea is a highly versatile social icebreaker, comfort food, mild stimulant, excuse for a break, all-purpose medicine, means of relaxing and cultural icon.
It probably doesn't come as a surprise to learn that it's also been used as a murder weapon.
In fact the idea of a tasty hot drink with something nasty in it is a common theme in British culture. It shows up in detective fiction; in Agatha Christie's The Pale Horse the murderer uses food and drinks laced with thallium. People joke about it; socialite Nancy Astor once said to Winston Churchill, "Winston, if you were my husband I'd poison your coffee." Instantly he replied, "Madam, if I were your husband I'd drink it."
Churchill would joke about anything. In 1962, though, for one family in north London, poisoning was no laughing matter. A strange illness had been plaguing the household for nearly a year, coming and going with no obvious pattern - except that sickness often followed a cup of tea. Fred Young worried about his son Graham's chemistry hobby, but never really thought there was a connection. Then his wife died, and his own sickness worsened. He was barely alive himself when Graham was arrested and charged with attempted murder by poison. Nine years later a stupid decision by an idealistic doctor unleashed a wave of fear and agony on a small English town. It finally ended with the second arrest of Graham Young - but by then two men were dead.
Most crimes are committed with some sort of goal in mind. Speeding drivers want to get somewhere in a hurry. Robbers want to obtain something without having to work for it. Drug dealers are willing to work but prefer to do it satisfying illicit needs. Even most murderers want to gain something from it. An accelerated inheritance, the removal of an inconvenient spouse, settling the score for a betrayal in love or business, even revenge for a perceived insult; we don't agree with these reasons for killing but at least we can understand them. We can't understand a thrill killer - someone who takes lives just because they enjoy it. These are the truly frightening murderers because none of us are safe. It's easy to avoid double-dealing a Mob boss or cheating on your husband. If your grandson starts valuing your art collection you can just hint that you've written him out of your will. Keep your wife happy and she won't conspire with a new lover to lethally sabotage your car. But what do you do about someone who'll kill you simply because they can?
Luckily killers like this, frightening as they are, don't present a serious threat to most of us because there aren't very many of them. Graham Young was one of them, and this is his story.
Chapter 1: Childhood
Neasden first appears in records in 939 AD as "Neasdun." The name comes from Old English and it means "Nose Hill," after a distinctive feature in the area. In the 1850s it was a village with a population of about 110, but it started to grow rapidly when a railway connected it to north London and Bedford in 1868. By the early 20th century it had been swallowed by the growing city of London, but the residents tried hard to keep a separate identity even when the district started to decline after WWII. It's a confused area, without much to recommend it. Some color is added by immigrant communities but Neasden doesn't really have any character of its own. It's been nicknamed "the loneliest village in London."[i]
With its strange existence, half way between London suburb and village, maybe it's not surprising that Neasden has a reputation. The satirical magazine Private Eye was founded there and later parodied the area for its dullness. Poet Sir John Betjemen called it "home of the gnome and the average citizen," which is better than what he said about Slough but still not exactly a compliment. For 60 years at least, Neasden has been known as a place where uninteresting people do uninteresting things.
A winning streak - or a comfortably dull one - can't last forever though. On September 10, 1947 Neasden couple Fred and Margaret "Molly" Young celebrated the birth of their second child, a boy they named Graham Frederick. Sadly Margaret developed pleurisy while she was pregnant. This disease is an inflammation of the pleura, a lining that surrounds the lungs, and it can be very serious. In 1947, when antibiotics weren't as widely available, it was potentially a lot worse. In Molly Young's case it was about as bad as it could get; her pleurisy turned out to be a symptom of an even worse disease, tuberculosis, which at the time was as lethal as many cancers are today. Three months after Graham was born she died, leaving Fred Young to bring up the new baby as well as his daughter Winifred, then aged eight.
Fred, who also had to hold down a job as a machine setter, couldn't cope with two children and at a very young age Graham was sent to live with his Aunt Winnie and Uncle Jack.[ii] His sister moved in with Fred's mother. This was obviously a disruption, but the young Graham quickly bonded with his aunt and uncle and hated to be separated from them even for a short time. Winnie and Jack lived in a neat, rented "two up, two down" post-war row house on the North Circular Road.[iii] Opposite were fields and a small park, and beyond those the Brent Reservoir, known to residents as the Welsh Harp. The park and reservoir were popular places for children to play. Graham was too young to go out on his own, but he didn't even seem interested in playing at home. He often just sat there, rocking backwards and forwards.
When Graham was two and a half his father remarried, and with his new wife (also called Molly) to help out he felt like he could take care of the children again. Fred bought the house Winnie and Jack were renting and set up home there with Molly and Graham. Winifred joined them, and Fred and Molly set about bringing the children up. It got off to a bad start, because Graham was visibly upset at leaving his aunt and uncle. Perhaps the trauma of being taken away from them affected him more than people imagined. Anyway it didn't take long for people to start noticing that he was an unusual child. At the age of five he joined his sister at Braintcroft Junior School, but he never really seemed to fit in.
In 1958 Britain still had a two-tier secondary education system. When children were about eleven years old they sat an exam, known as the Eleven Plus, to decide what sort of high school they would attend. Those who failed the exam went to a Secondary Modern school, which was aimed at giving a basic education to future skilled and unskilled workers. The 25% or so who passed would go to a Grammar School, which focused on academic education as a preparation for university. Graham Young scraped past the exam and went to Neasden's John Kelly Secondary School. His father bought him a chemistry set as a reward.
The choice of gift was an obvious one; Young wasn't really all that academic, but he was good at chemistry. In fact since the age of nine or ten he'd developed an interest in all sorts of chemicals. He was constantly "borrowing" his stepmother's perfumes and nail polish remover and carrying out simple experiments with them (unknown to his father he was also sniffing the vapor to get high). He learned the active ingredients of common medicines and whenever one of the family took any he'd explain exactly what was in them and how it worked. People would have preferred it if he didn't also tell them in detail what would happen if they overdosed, but hey, kids can be strange sometimes.
[i] Hidden London, Neasden, Brent
http://hidden-london.com/gazetteer/neasden/
[ii] TruTV.com, Crime Library, Graham Young, the St. Albans Poisoner, Johnny Sharp
http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/serial_killers/weird/graham_young/2.html
[iii] Criminal Behaviour and Mental Health, Graham Young (1947–90); the St Albans poisoner: his life and times http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/cbm.132/abstract;jsessionid=23D7EC5045F311CFACBA39A28B0411FC.d03t04
There are few things as British as a nice cup of tea. Starting when the first leaves were brought to England by Catherine of Braganza in the 1660s, and more significantly when British control of India expanded in the late 18th century, tea and the rituals surrounding it have influenced every area of British culture. By now it's hard to think of the people without also thinking of the drink. In fact, to the average Brit a cup of tea is a highly versatile social icebreaker, comfort food, mild stimulant, excuse for a break, all-purpose medicine, means of relaxing and cultural icon.
It probably doesn't come as a surprise to learn that it's also been used as a murder weapon.
In fact the idea of a tasty hot drink with something nasty in it is a common theme in British culture. It shows up in detective fiction; in Agatha Christie's The Pale Horse the murderer uses food and drinks laced with thallium. People joke about it; socialite Nancy Astor once said to Winston Churchill, "Winston, if you were my husband I'd poison your coffee." Instantly he replied, "Madam, if I were your husband I'd drink it."
Churchill would joke about anything. In 1962, though, for one family in north London, poisoning was no laughing matter. A strange illness had been plaguing the household for nearly a year, coming and going with no obvious pattern - except that sickness often followed a cup of tea. Fred Young worried about his son Graham's chemistry hobby, but never really thought there was a connection. Then his wife died, and his own sickness worsened. He was barely alive himself when Graham was arrested and charged with attempted murder by poison. Nine years later a stupid decision by an idealistic doctor unleashed a wave of fear and agony on a small English town. It finally ended with the second arrest of Graham Young - but by then two men were dead.
Most crimes are committed with some sort of goal in mind. Speeding drivers want to get somewhere in a hurry. Robbers want to obtain something without having to work for it. Drug dealers are willing to work but prefer to do it satisfying illicit needs. Even most murderers want to gain something from it. An accelerated inheritance, the removal of an inconvenient spouse, settling the score for a betrayal in love or business, even revenge for a perceived insult; we don't agree with these reasons for killing but at least we can understand them. We can't understand a thrill killer - someone who takes lives just because they enjoy it. These are the truly frightening murderers because none of us are safe. It's easy to avoid double-dealing a Mob boss or cheating on your husband. If your grandson starts valuing your art collection you can just hint that you've written him out of your will. Keep your wife happy and she won't conspire with a new lover to lethally sabotage your car. But what do you do about someone who'll kill you simply because they can?
Luckily killers like this, frightening as they are, don't present a serious threat to most of us because there aren't very many of them. Graham Young was one of them, and this is his story.
Chapter 1: Childhood
Neasden first appears in records in 939 AD as "Neasdun." The name comes from Old English and it means "Nose Hill," after a distinctive feature in the area. In the 1850s it was a village with a population of about 110, but it started to grow rapidly when a railway connected it to north London and Bedford in 1868. By the early 20th century it had been swallowed by the growing city of London, but the residents tried hard to keep a separate identity even when the district started to decline after WWII. It's a confused area, without much to recommend it. Some color is added by immigrant communities but Neasden doesn't really have any character of its own. It's been nicknamed "the loneliest village in London."[i]
With its strange existence, half way between London suburb and village, maybe it's not surprising that Neasden has a reputation. The satirical magazine Private Eye was founded there and later parodied the area for its dullness. Poet Sir John Betjemen called it "home of the gnome and the average citizen," which is better than what he said about Slough but still not exactly a compliment. For 60 years at least, Neasden has been known as a place where uninteresting people do uninteresting things.
A winning streak - or a comfortably dull one - can't last forever though. On September 10, 1947 Neasden couple Fred and Margaret "Molly" Young celebrated the birth of their second child, a boy they named Graham Frederick. Sadly Margaret developed pleurisy while she was pregnant. This disease is an inflammation of the pleura, a lining that surrounds the lungs, and it can be very serious. In 1947, when antibiotics weren't as widely available, it was potentially a lot worse. In Molly Young's case it was about as bad as it could get; her pleurisy turned out to be a symptom of an even worse disease, tuberculosis, which at the time was as lethal as many cancers are today. Three months after Graham was born she died, leaving Fred Young to bring up the new baby as well as his daughter Winifred, then aged eight.
Fred, who also had to hold down a job as a machine setter, couldn't cope with two children and at a very young age Graham was sent to live with his Aunt Winnie and Uncle Jack.[ii] His sister moved in with Fred's mother. This was obviously a disruption, but the young Graham quickly bonded with his aunt and uncle and hated to be separated from them even for a short time. Winnie and Jack lived in a neat, rented "two up, two down" post-war row house on the North Circular Road.[iii] Opposite were fields and a small park, and beyond those the Brent Reservoir, known to residents as the Welsh Harp. The park and reservoir were popular places for children to play. Graham was too young to go out on his own, but he didn't even seem interested in playing at home. He often just sat there, rocking backwards and forwards.
When Graham was two and a half his father remarried, and with his new wife (also called Molly) to help out he felt like he could take care of the children again. Fred bought the house Winnie and Jack were renting and set up home there with Molly and Graham. Winifred joined them, and Fred and Molly set about bringing the children up. It got off to a bad start, because Graham was visibly upset at leaving his aunt and uncle. Perhaps the trauma of being taken away from them affected him more than people imagined. Anyway it didn't take long for people to start noticing that he was an unusual child. At the age of five he joined his sister at Braintcroft Junior School, but he never really seemed to fit in.
In 1958 Britain still had a two-tier secondary education system. When children were about eleven years old they sat an exam, known as the Eleven Plus, to decide what sort of high school they would attend. Those who failed the exam went to a Secondary Modern school, which was aimed at giving a basic education to future skilled and unskilled workers. The 25% or so who passed would go to a Grammar School, which focused on academic education as a preparation for university. Graham Young scraped past the exam and went to Neasden's John Kelly Secondary School. His father bought him a chemistry set as a reward.
The choice of gift was an obvious one; Young wasn't really all that academic, but he was good at chemistry. In fact since the age of nine or ten he'd developed an interest in all sorts of chemicals. He was constantly "borrowing" his stepmother's perfumes and nail polish remover and carrying out simple experiments with them (unknown to his father he was also sniffing the vapor to get high). He learned the active ingredients of common medicines and whenever one of the family took any he'd explain exactly what was in them and how it worked. People would have preferred it if he didn't also tell them in detail what would happen if they overdosed, but hey, kids can be strange sometimes.
[i] Hidden London, Neasden, Brent
http://hidden-london.com/gazetteer/neasden/
[ii] TruTV.com, Crime Library, Graham Young, the St. Albans Poisoner, Johnny Sharp
http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/serial_killers/weird/graham_young/2.html
[iii] Criminal Behaviour and Mental Health, Graham Young (1947–90); the St Albans poisoner: his life and times http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/cbm.132/abstract;jsessionid=23D7EC5045F311CFACBA39A28B0411FC.d03t04
