poisoner

Crime & Christie: Louisa Lindloff’s Ultimate Fate

Finder of Lost ThingsLeave a comment

After the state recalled Dr. Miller and a Coroner’s physician to the stand, both of whom swore neither Alma nor Arthur suffered from any disease that would require treatment from an arsenic based medicine (endeavoring to rebut Sadie Ray and Louisa Lindloff’s insistence that the pair had), the state and defense made their closing arguments then rested their collective cases. 

At 3:45 pm, on November 5, 1912, the jury started deliberating Louisa Lindloff’s future.

Whilst they did so, Louisa laughed and gossiped with Sadie Ray and other friends in the vacated jury box. Reporters sat in the gallery and started writing yet more copy about how a woman, even a mass murderer, couldn’t get convicted by a Cook County jury. A sentiment most spectators still sitting in the courtroom echoed, much to the despair of the Assistant States Attorneys.

Though the jury created a stir when the bailiffs escorted them to dinner at the Alexandra Hotel and again when they returned at 7:30pm — it wasn’t until a knock sounded on the jury room door at 9:15pm that the butterflies in everyone’s stomachs took flight. After shuffling back into their seats, the jury foreman rose and declared Louisa Lindloff guilty of murdering her son, Arthur Graunke, and sentenced her to twenty-five years in prison.

Seems the jury unanimously agreed on Louisa’s guilt straight away. What took the next five-ish hours to settle was Louisa’s punishment: On the jury’s first ballot – 5 wanted life in prison and 7 wanted Louisa to hang. On the second ballot – 5 voted for life in prison and 7 switched to a term of 40 years. Finally, on the third ballot – the twelve men compromised and settled on 25 years.

The resulting headlines touted Louisa as the first woman convicted by a Cook County jury in three years.

A typical article about Lulu’s crime.

A bulletin that highlights the casual racism of the day. 

For you see, only one month before, in the very same judge’s courtroom, Lulu Blackwell was sentenced to thirty-five years in prison for manslaughter. The only difference? Both the Lulu and the victim, Charles Vaughn, were black. A fact which apparently made a difference to the white newspaper editors of Chicago. As not only was there significantly less coverage of Lulu’s crime and trial (in the papers I’ve got access to), when her name was mentioned either during the scant trial coverage or on the lists of women arrested for murder, most papers felt the need to point out Lulu’s skin color, and none (I found) mentioned Lulu’s stretch inside Joliet Prison being longer than Louisa’s — for a lesser charge. 

Although there’s a distinct lack of copy on both the murders committed by black women and the subsequent acquittals they won during this stretch of time in Cook County, I did find a few — like Belle Beasley. Who, after five minutes of deliberation, was acquitted. Despite being found standing over her dead husband with a literal smoking gun in one hand and newspaper clippings of other women cleared of murder by Cook County juries clutched in the other. 

All that being said, one of the biggest issues for Lulu’s defense was she brought a gun with her to 3212 Dearborn Street. Beyond all the typical problems associated with shooting someone in a fit of jealousy, before their house, on a public sidewalk, in front of witnesses. (Charles was planning to marry another.) By lugging the firearm to the confrontation, Lulu gave the impression, real or not, that some level of plotting went into the act. Making it that much more challenging to convince a jury that Lulu acted in either ‘the heat of the moment,’ self-defense, or needed protection under Chicago’s ‘unwritten law.’ 

An identical whisper of premeditation would haunt and ultimately help convict Vera Trepagnier at trial seven years later.

Then, there were the barks of laughter Lulu reportedly let loose during the testimony of the witnesses called against her. Remember, the men called to serve on Cook County juries only wanted to see overt displays of contrition, regret, and/or remorse on the faces of the women they were judging. Hence why, Billy Flynn became annoyed with Roxie (in the 2002 film adaptation of Chicago) when reporters asked during We Both Reached for the Gun if she was sorry for murdering her boyfriend and she replied, “Are you kidding?” Had Roxie continued to appear unrepentant, as she nearly did, until a state-sanctioned murder radically changed her tune — ten-to-one, she would’ve found herself facing a length of rope. 

This lack of visible contrition also damned Katherine Baluk (aka Kitty Malm, aka Tiger Girl) to life in prison in 1924, for possibly shooting a security guard to death. She was also the real life inspiration for the character Go-to-Hell-Kitty in Chicago (the musical).

Though the reasons behind the jury’s decision to find Lulu guilty are only educated guesses — what isn’t — is the utter shock she displayed upon hearing the word ‘guilty’ ring out in the courtroom. An emotion Louisa would mirror thirty days later after the same exact verdict reached her ears.

While George Remus lept to his feet and motioned for a new trial — Louisa sat stock still. Only after she was led from the courtroom did she break down. After recovering from a fainting spell, Louisa wept and gave reporters this quote: “There is no justice here…Those that are guilty are turned loose and those who are innocent get the worst of it. I will show my innocence before I am through. It will only be a question of time. I did not kill my boy or any others. I am innocent, as God is my witness.” 

Interestingly enough, unlike Isabella Nitti and Hilda Exlund, who blamed their conviction on their looks, Louisa didn’t. She blamed a different source: “The spirits lied to me—they lied—they told me I would be acquitted. They promised I should be free—and here I am, convicted. Why have I believed the spirits—they lie.” Though Louisa’s disillusionment in the spirit world quickly faded and new predictions of her imminent release followed — the press, her fellow spiritualists, and the public had already moved on.

Judge Windes presided over Hilda Exlund, Lulu Blackwell, & Louisa Lindloff’s trials. All of whom bucked the trend and were convicted of murder or manslaughter.

A circumstance that may have changed if Louisa’s appeal for a new trial came to fruition. And thanks to Judge Windes’ decision to allow the introduction of Julius, John Otto, Frieda, William, and Alma’s deaths into evidence — there was an excellent chance the Illinois Supreme Court would’ve approved this appeal. 

Granted, the other deaths and their connected life insurance policies/payouts created a compelling pattern. However, Louisa was never formally accused of, arrested for, or tried for any death other than Arthur’s. Meaning they shouldn’t have been presented as evidence to the jury. An argument Chief Justice Carter of the Illinois Supreme Court seemed to nominally agree with, as on March 15, 1913, he issued a ‘writ of supersedeas.’ Allowing Louisa to move back to Cook County Jail’s Murderess Row while waiting for the Supreme Court to hear her appeal. 

However, we will never know how the Justices would’ve ultimately ruled.

From L to R : A) The entrance to the Woman’s Prison at Joliet B) Women’s Prison Cell Block C) Two inmates making rugs D) Woman’s Dining Hall E) Female prisoners did all the laundry for themselves & the men’s prison here E) Prison Cemetery, though Louisa wasn’t buried here Lulu may have — though its unclear if the female & male inmates were buried together

On March 15, 1914, Louisa Lindloff died of intestinal cancer while waiting for her date with the Supreme Court. One of her last published quotes was, “I have nothing to say — I am happy to die.” (Sadly, Lulu Blackwell preceded Louisa beyond the pearly gates by eight months, dying of septicemia inside Joliet State Prison on July 13, 1913. The only note of her death I found was a single line in an annual report published by the Illinois prison system.)

Supreme Court appeal and protestations notwithstanding — what do I think? “There was Mrs. Green, you know, she buried five children — and every one of them insured. Well, naturally, one began to get suspicious.” Though this Miss Marple quote from The Bloodstained Pavement was written about sixteen years after Louisa Lindloff’s 1912 conviction and undoubtedly about a different poisoner, I think it neatly sums up the spirit behind Louisa’s crimes. 

IMHO, it feels far too coincidental that: A) Julius Graunke & Charles Lipchow died in August, a year and three days apart from one another. B) William Lindloff & Alma Graunke also died in August, a year and a day apart from one another C) Frieda & Arthur Graunke died four years and two days apart from each other in June. John Otto Lindloff, who died in October, is the only outlier to this pattern. However, if Louisa worried he and Frieda would move beyond the easy reach of her box of Rough on Rats after they married — this might explain why she didn’t wait.

Together with the thousands of dollars, Louisa earned each time she buried someone? Plus, the lies she told the police upon discovering the insurance policies on Arthur’s life? It’s compelling, even without Sadie Ray’s uneven account of Louisa trying to slot her death into the timeline. Over and above that, Louisa’s excuse that cucumbers led to Arthur’s death is just flat ridiculous.

In other words, yes, I think she did it.

On the topic of Louisa’s Victims: After the trial concluded, Chicago Police Captain Baer went on record with his belief that on top of murdering Arthur, the rest of her immediate family, Charles Lipchow, and Eugenie Clavett — he’d uncovered evidence that Louisa had murdered fifteen more people, including a five-month-old infant. (Not to mention the countless animals witnesses swore Louisa killed while experimenting with different poisons.)

Assuming his intelligence was correct, that would bring the grand total of murders ascribed to Louisa to 23. 

My 52 Weeks With Christie: A.Miner©2024

Crime & Christie: Building on Their Bones

Finder of Lost ThingsLeave a comment

Possible tools of Louisa’s trade.

Now that Louisa Lindloff’s lawyer, George Remus, dealt with the arsenic hued elephant in the (court)room, it was time to address a far more problematic aspect of the case — Louisa’s pinpoint prophesies of death. Obviously, correctly predicting the exact expiration date for (at least) seven separate people is a tough mountain for any defense to climb. Yet, this peak wasn’t insurmountable, thanks to the mercurial nature of Chicago juries and the well-established Murderess Acquittal Formula.

However, the climb did prove far more treacherous than first anticipated after Judge Thomas G. Windes allowed Assistant State’s Attorneys Smith & Lowe to introduce the deaths of Julius Graunke, John Otto Lindloff, William Lindloff, Frieda Graunke, and Alma Graunke as well as, the corresponding life insurance payouts into evidence. These deaths, when taken in conjunction with Arthur’s (the only family member Louisa was actually on trial for murdering) and the ledger found secreted away beneath a floorboard in Louisa’s wardrobe (which demonstrated the correlation between Louisa’s dipping bank balance and the alleged murders) made the pattern crystal clear. 

Though this judicial decision was problematic, it didn’t seem to alter the razzle-dazzle strategy Louisa and her legal team set in motion in the run-up to her trial in November 1912.

Now, you need to understand that by the time Louisa’s alleged crimes came to light, Spiritualism was simultaneously flourishing and floundering in the United States. Spurred on by grieving families who lost fathers, husbands, brothers, and other relatives in brutal battles during the Civil War (forty-seven years before), this idea that the spirit remained intact after death and could be contacted brought genuine solace to those in mourning. (Spiritualism saw a similar uptick in popularity after WWI as well. Hence its inclusion in so many golden age mystery stories, including a Miss Marple short story, Motive v. Opportunity.)

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for those with an eye for the main chance to start taking advantage. Now, to be fair, some spiritualists sincerely wanted to help the bereaved and those searching for answers. However, a far greater number chose to twist Spiritualism for their own gain.

Like Chicago’s own Bangs Sisters.

Operating out of their parlor, May and Lizzie conducted seances during which the spirits sometimes “created” either writings or portraits for their still-living loved ones — for a hefty fee. 

The first article about how the Bangs Sisters drove a prominent Chicago photographer, Henry Jestram, insane with messages from the dead. Many in Chicago blamed the pair for Jestram’s commitment and subsequent death inside an insane asylum. The second photo is (obviously) of Mary “May” Bangs and her ex-husband – who married her because his dead mother “told” him to do so.

However, by the time Louisa’s trial came around in 1912, a massive number of mediums, fortunetellers, and their ilk had been publicly unmasked as frauds. (Including the Bangs Sisters, who had their deceit exposed once in 1901, again in 1909, and finally sometime before 1913.)

Yet, despite the growing body of evidence compiled by scientists, magicians, and authorities demonstrating the literal tricks of the trade — people still wanted to believe. 

Just some of the coverage Spiritualism received back in the day. From L to R: A) When one did not own a crystal ball, a glass of water would work equally well for seeing into the future. B) Spirit boards were often employed by mediums. C) An “authentic” spirit drawing. D) Sir Arthur Conan Doyle being photo bombed by fairies, now debunked. E) An advertisement/bio of a clairvoyant. E) A “ghost” appearing during a seance.

Whether Louisa counted herself as a true believer or amongst the double dealers hardly matters. 

What does signify is the fact that within short order upon arriving at Cook County’s Murderess Row, Louisa leaned heavily into her advertised occupation of spiritualist medium. To this end, Louisa installed her favorite crystal ball within her jail cell. When reporters asked about the clear sphere, Louisa proudly boasted she’d paid $500 for the instrument, which contained a single tear shed by Cleopatra over Marc Anthony’s resting place within its heart. When used with her own second sight, this extraordinarily powerful reagent would swell and stretch beneath her gaze until images from the future filled her vision and/or she contacted someone across the River Styx. 

Unsurprisingly, Louisa used the crystalline orb to contact the son she was accused of murdering: “She says that she has communicated thus with Arthur, and that he tells her she will be exonerated, but that she is unable to get in touch with her late husband Wm. Lindloff. However, she is assured that Arthur will look him up.” This prediction, made just eleven days after Arthur’s death, was one of the first in a lengthy string of prophesies Louisa would deliver to anyone and everyone in earshot. 

And many were listening.

Amongst Louisa’s most vocal supporters were her fellow mediums, necromancers, and the like. During Louisa’s many and varied court appearances, these spiritualists routinely relayed their visions and spirit guide messages to reporters — all of which confirmed Louisa’s gifts, innocence, and imminent acquittal. Moreover, they and sympathetic members of the public contributed to Louisa’s defense fund, raising well over $1,800.

The close ups of her mouth and nose were trying to show the paper’s readers how Louisa’s features identified her as a murderer.

Although the state’s tests and investigation of Louisa’s crystal ball revealed it to be nothing more than a fifty-cent orb of glass, this information did not (seemingly) affect Louisa’s clients’ faith. Although ASA Smith & Lowe compelled a few to corroborate that Louisa had predicted the exact dates of several familial deaths (which Louisa later denied doing). They also testified to numerous predictions Louisa made that came about, which she couldn’t possibly have influenced the outcome of. (Louisa also made similar death day prophecies to Dr. Warner for Alma and Arthur’s death and predicted Arthur’s death at Alma’s funeral to her favorite Undertaker.)

(BTW: The loss of access to said sphere for police testing did not stem the tide of Louisa’s predictions. Instead, she would perform long, complicated divination rituals before an altar constructed from a framed photograph of Arthur and gifts he’d given her to achieve the same results.) 

To the jaded eye, this spiritualist angle appears to be nothing but a bunch of balderdash meant to feed the press and distract the public from the correlation between death and benefits. If it also happened to plant the idea Louisa was far too silly to commit such ruthless acts, so much the better. 

Another headline of Louisa’s alleged crimes.

Next, George Remus attempted to fashion Louisa into a sympathetic figure caught in a web of circumstances far beyond her control. 

To this end, and to the complete surprise of everyone, Louisa included a hitherto unmentioned death while testifying in her own defense. Fourteen years before Julius’s death in 1905, Louisa and Julius’s infant son, Erick Graunke, died unexpectedly in 1891. In the article I read, there wasn’t a clear reason why Louisa brought Erick and his death up….Other than trying to garner sympathy from the jury? And/or hoping to get remains tested for arsenic, knowing none would be found, thereby breaking the pattern? I know it sounds unkind to intimate Louisa used her baby’s death for her own ends, but up until this point, he’d not come up once. So why now? It just seems…..well…..slightly shady that she would bring up his death at this point in time when no one in either Wisconsin or Illinois had once questioned it. 

(And this wasn’t the only time Louisa might’ve used an infant for her own ends. According to Captain Baer and Milwaukee prosecutors, there was a fair chance Louisa experimented with arsenic or other substances on a five-month-old infant she helped care for, leading to their death in 1907.)

Next, during her nearly two hours on the stand, Louisa elaborated on several tidbits she had shared with the press earlier in her incarceration. First, she painted her first husband, Julius Graunke, as a serial adulterer. Who passed a STD to her, and she unsuspectingly gave her children and second husband. Moreover, after mustering the courage to leave him, Julius tricked her into a reconciliation three months later. (BTW: While her neighbors in Milwaukee neither confirmed nor denied Louisa’s account in the articles I read, MANY testified to the fact they suspected she was carrying on with another man before, during, and after Julius’s last illness.)

Following her harsh account of Julius, Louisa portrayed John Otto Lindloff as a drunk whom neither she nor his brother/her future husband wanted marrying Frieda (Louisa’s eldest daughter).

At this point, Louisa donned the mantle of a long-suffering mother whose other daughter (Alma) routinely stayed out all night drinking and dancing. Utterly undeterred by Louisa’s warnings about her frail health or “whippings” she received, Alma continued to do as she pleased until her fast lifestyle caught up with her. (Whether these “whippings” were physical or verbal is unclear). Finally, Louisa painted herself and Arthur as victims. He, being a “good boy”, was forced to endure an STD he’d done nothing to earn. While she helplessly watched everyone she loved fall like dominoes due to the unexpected consequences of the arsenic laced medicines they all were compelled to take due to Julius’s infidelity.

Now, with the arsenic accounted for, circumstances sufficiently muddied, and a sympathetic tale on record, George Remus turned his sights on the last problem sticking in the proverbial craw of his defense — a one Miss Sadie Ray.

My 52 Weeks With Christie: A.Miner©2024

Crime & Christie: Arsenic the Element That Brings Everyone Together

Finder of Lost ThingsLeave a comment

Now, you’d think arsenic poisoning wouldn’t really square with Chicago’s Murderess Acquittal Formula. Not only because the administration of poison is (predominantly) a covert and (on the whole) premeditated act but on account of the sheer absurdity of translating the foundation of this Formula from “they both reached for the gun” — to — “they both reached for the box of Rough on Rats.” 

And yet, a handful of women still turned to this ancient element. 

The most notorious of the lot, who spent their fair share of time in Cook County’s Murderess Row, were the serial poisoners Tillie Klimek and Louise Vermilya. However, there is a third, lesser-known member of these ‘Sisters in Bane’ — Louise Lindloff. Who’s life and crimes and subsequent trial had it all — spiritualists, allegations of witness tampering, startling admissions, and a literal crystal ball. So, of course, that’s whose misdeeds we will explore next!

Now that we’ve mastered that portion of the name game let’s examine Louisa Lindloff’s life and multifarious crimes.

Originally, Louisa was born Louise Darkone in Colmar, Germany, on February 4, 1871. Seventeen years later, in March 1888, Louisa married Julius Graunke, who was about two years her senior. Approximately two years later, in April 1890, Louisa and Julius welcomed their first child, a girl they named Frieda, into the world. 

Here’s The Deal: In researching the piece, I discovered that while Louise was her legal name, she also went by Lizzie and Louisa.  Since Louisa is the name inscribed on her headstone, I will use it from here on out since it seems (if I’m inferring correctly) to be the name she preferred.

Following this joyous event, sometime between 1889 and 1891, Julius crossed the Atlantic Ocean, settled in Milwaukee (Wisconsin), and found work as a driver for the Fitzner & Thompson Commission House before sending for his wife and baby daughter. In short order, the couple expanded their family with a second daughter, Alma, born on December 18, 1891. Finally, Julius and Louisa completed their familial unit with son Arthur Alfred Otto, born on May 19, 1897.

Sadly, misfortune in the form of an undefined, debilitating illness struck Julius around late April or early May of 1905. During his three-month downward spiral, a neighbor, Mrs. Martha Greiner, heard Julius complain: “Louisa, there was something in my last medicine.” Louisa also confided in Martha: “Julius will only live a few days and when he is dead I’ll get $2,600. I’m going to open a saloon and buy a horse and buggy and have a good time.” This prediction came about, just as Louisa foretold, on August 12, 1905. 

The death certificate put the cause of death down as sunstroke, and Louisa promptly collected on Julius’s hefty insurance policy. 

Surprisingly, Louisa’s prophecy and tawdry comments failed to ring the necessary number of alarm bells within Martha to prompt a visit to the authorities, especially when combined with the sudden death of the Graunke family dog and the baffling death of a flock of chickens on an adjoining property around this period.

Perhaps Martha didn’t want to believe someone she knew was a killer? (Which, in fairness, would slow me down as well. Despite this blog and the sheer quantity of mysteries I’ve read.) Or, more likely, Martha bought (to some degree) into Louisa’s claim of being blessed with second sight since the age of eight. Which would “explain” how she was granted the foreknowledge of the date of her husband’s death. Either way, Martha and the other neighbors remained silent about what they’d seen and heard in the Graunke household.

Even when the thirty-four-year-old mother of three followed up on her promise of ‘having a good time’ and started kicking up her heels with her boarder Charles Lipchow. Who’d not only lived with the Graunke’s for a period before Julius’s death but whose recently deceased mother (or Auntie, I’ve read conflicting newspaper reports) bequeathed him a legacy somewhere between $5,000 and $15,000 (again, there are conflicting amounts). Who, in turn, lavished the bulk of his inheritance upon Louisa. 

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. 

On August 17, 1906, nearly a year to the day after Julius passed away, Louisa lost her good time Charlie. However, in a stroke of good fortune, before his death, Charles assigned Louisa as the beneficiary of his $550 life insurance policy provided by a cigar maker’s union (of which $116 went towards his funeral in Lincoln Memorial Cemetery). 

Whereupon Louisa assuaged her grief by becoming a bride (again) and married William Lindloff on November 7, 1906.

An 1885 railroad map with Milwaukee & Chicago highlighted.

From the Office of Full Disclosure: It’s unclear, exactly when Louisa and her kids moved to 2044 Ogden Avenue in Chicago, Illinois. One account places the move just after Julius’s death in 1905. This would make sense if Louisa was trying to avoid the side-eye and whispers of her neighbors. And Charles’s hefty inheritance would’ve made the move from Milwaukee to Chicago, with three kids in tow, a great deal easier. What muddles the timing of Louisa’s out-of-state move is that Charles died in Wisconsin, not Chicago. So either Louisa moved after Charles’s death, Charles returned to Milwaukee with a belly full of poison and succumbed there or she poisoned him on a return visit?

Compounding my confusion is the fact that Louisa’s second husband worked for the McCormick Harvester Company, which was founded and operated out of Chicago. However, in 1902, McCormick merged with several similar manufacturers to form the International Harvester Company, which operated out of both Illinois and Wisconsin (amongst other states). So did the two meet, court, and marry in Milwaukee, Chicago, or some combination thereof? I’ve not found a copy of their marriage certificate, so I’m unsure.

Then there’s William’s brother, John Otto Lindloff, who resided with the newlyweds. One report I read stated that John Otto’s new sister-in-law absolutely detested the sight of him. Not only because he was courting her eldest daughter Frieda, but on account of the fact he became suspicious of Louisa after drinks and food she’d prepared made him ill immediately afterward. Then, on October 12, 1907, at the age of 24, John Otto died after suffering, for a short period, from dizziness, vomiting, stomach cramps, and other violent symptoms. According to his death certificate he died of apoplexy in Milwaukee, where he was subsequently buried. 

Hence why, I lean towards Louisa still living in Milwaukee, at least until 1907. It’s far simpler to slip a little something into someone’s food if you live in the same city, street, and home than Louisa traveling the hundred or so miles up the coast of Lake Michigan from Chicago to Milwaukee in order to perform the deadly deed. 

That being said, the distance would provide Louisa with a nice buffer after collecting John Otto’s $2,000 life insurance policy.

Frieda Graunke

In any case, what I do know for certain is that Louisa, William, and the kids were in Chicago by June 11, 1908. As that’s the day Louisa’s eldest daughter, Frieda, unexpectedly passed away at the age of eighteen from typhoid fever and was later laid to rest in Oak Ridge (aka Glen Oak) Cemetery in Cook County, Illinois. It will surprise no one that the young laundress named her mother as the sole beneficiary of a Prudential life insurance policy in the amount of $1,350 before her death.

The reason why I find these timeline and geography questions so frustratingly fascinating is that I’ve no clue if Louisa possessed enough cunning to purposely tango to and fro over state lines in order to obscure her string of murders and subsequent insurance fraud or if it was just coincidence. Nor is it clear if Louisa used nicknames and shiny new surname to further distance herself from her earlier crimes. Either way, by happenstance or design, it worked. Despite four deaths in four years, all of which benefitted Louisa financially, no one questioned her run of bad luck.

Yet.

My 52 Weeks of Christie: A.Miner©2024

Caustic Candy: Copycats of Cordelia Botkin

Finder of Lost ThingsLeave a comment

(A pic of Cordelia Botkin from the San Fransisco Call.)

Last week I touched briefly on the true-crime case of Cordelia Botkin. As it happens, she’s the lynchpin in the spat of turn-of-the-century poisoned candy cases in the US, and let me tell you, her case had it all: A talented reporter who fell from grace, an adulterous affair conducted by an older woman with a younger man (which was far more whisper worthy back in 1898), a US Senator, anonymous letters, and a cross country murder plot which paired arsenic tainted chocolates with the postal system to complete the dastardly deed. (If you want a more comprehensive account of Cordelia Botkin’s misdeeds, check out episode #134 of the Poisoner’s Cabinet podcast.) 

Unsurprisingly, newspapers across the country splashed Cordelia’s crimes across their pages for years — and the public lapped up every single word. 

However, as we now know, this highly publicized poisoning case wasn’t exactly good news for law enforcement. Whilst Cordelia was by no means the first poisoner to mail a box of toxic sweets in the hopes of dispatching a rival, a wealthy relative, or the perpetrator of past slights — she was by far the most (in)famous. Convicted twice, first in 1898 and again in 1904 (after winning an appeal for a retrial), forces of law and order knew it was only a matter of time before copycats began creeping out of the woodwork.

They didn’t need to wait long.

In January of 1899, mere weeks after Cordelia Botkin’s first trial concluded, Florence McVean began suffering from an acute case of nerves. The thirty-five-year-old widow of a prominent doctor, Florence, lived with her mother and younger sister at No. 4015 Cook Avenue in St. Louis, Missouri. After a couple weeks, Florence confided in her sister, Miss McGraw*, the source of her troubles: Poison Pen Letters. Being a good sister, Miss McGraw began intercepting the caustic communiques before her sister could see them, helping restore some of Francis’s peace of mind. 

Fast forward a few more weeks, to around February 7, 1899 (the newspapers weren’t clear on the exact date), when an anonymous box of bonbons arrived at the house without a note and addressed to Florence. 

Instantly suspicious of the unrequested sweets, Miss McGraw took both the box of chocolates and the stack of malicious missives to Police Chief Campbell and told her sister’s tale. During said recitation, she aimed authorities at one Miss Zoe Graham — to whom Miss McGraw, Florence, and their mother firmly believed was the author of all. The question was, why? Why would the twenty-two-year-old daughter of a prominent St. Louis plumbing contractor stoop to such crimes and misdemeanors? The answer, of course (sigh), was a man. Doctor Glasgow, a well-respected physician & eligible bachelor, had been calling on both Zoe and Florence.

Obviously, Zoe wanted to keep Florence from nabbing the catch of the county.

Knowing from which side his bread was buttered, Sheriff Campbell wisely chose to test the candy prior to tackling the well-to-do Graham family. Submitting the box of chocolates to the City Chemist for testing, the Sheriff quickly learned that each chocolate had been rolled in a powder containing arsenic, imbuing each piece with lethal levels of the metalloid. 

Now possessing definite proof of murderous intent, Chief Campbell began looking into the finer points of Miss McGraw’s story. Which inevitably brought him to Doctor Frank A. Glasgow’s doorstep, whereupon, the distinguished young doctor informed him of a massive flaw in Miss McGraw’s theory: His interest in Florence was purely professional. He’d only looked in on Mrs. McVean to treat her for one malady or another — simple as that. Doctor Glasgow further complicated and confused proceedings by producing a sheaf of Poison Pen Letters, which he’d received over the course of a few weeks, all of which warned him to stay away from Florence — as she had “designs” on him.

Taking possession of the second set of noxious notes, determined to compare them to the first, Chief Campbell turned his eyes slowly toward his prime suspect. However, in a surprising twist of fate, the Chief didn’t need to bother pussyfooting around Zoe Graham and her parents. As both she and her mother showed up, unannounced and madder than a pair of wet hens, at the police station to see him. Evidently, Florence and her female relations had been broadcasting hither, thither, and yon to anyone and everyone (including several veiled references printed in multiple newspapers across the region) their suspicions about Zoe. The indignant Mrs. Graham wanted to press charges against Florence for dragging her innocent daughter into the whole affair and their insistence on throwing mud at Zoe’s good name. Whilst the Prosecuting Attorney refused to issue a warrant for Florence’s arrest, Miss & Mrs. Graham’s visit provided Sheriff Campbell with another critical clue — the younger woman’s alibi, which, according to his subsequent investigation and statements on the subject, was cast iron.

(Obviously, not a picture of the actual chocolates, from the limited descriptions I found — I thought they might look something like these. Thanks to Merve Aydın & Unsplash for the photo.)

This development might’ve thrown a spanner into investigation had Sheriff Campbell’s detectives not run down the source of the tainted bonbons. Enter Miss Henley of the Busy Bee Candy Store: Who could not only describe the woman who purchased the box of sweet treats, she could put a name to the face — as she’d kept the mystery woman’s calling card so the store could ship her her purchase. Though Miss Henley’s true coup de grace was her positive identification of the chocolate’s purchaser……

A one Mrs. Florence McVean!

Rolling with this unforeseen twist, Chief Campbell returned to Doctor Glasgow’s doormat and asked if he had any correspondence, notes, or even a grocery list in Florence’s hand. The only scrap the good doctor could share with authorities was an envelope Florence had addressed to him. Upon comparing the exemplar to the handwritten noxious notes, the handwriting appeared similar but wasn’t a conclusive match. Seems the letter writer had taken steps to disguise themselves. Of the countermeasures employed, all are classics: writing in all capital letters, failing to sign the missive itself, and using commonly available stationary (in this case, cheap ruled paper). Piling onto this circumstantial evidence were the postmarks stamped onto the envelopes. Apparently, every postmark indicated the letters were mailed from a postal territory only a stone’s throw away from Florence’s home.

Thoroughly convinced Florence was the architect of her own misery Sheriff Campbell immediately dropped his investigation and turned the case over to the Federal Authorities. (They didn’t say which branch, but I’m reasonably certain it was the US Postal Inspection Service.) Who, in turn, dropped the case as well due to the lack of direct evidence linking Florence to the Poison Pen Letters or the Chocolates. Sheriff Campbell also, to reassure the public there wasn’t a mad poisoner stalking the citizens of St. Louis, presented his findings to the press — who were more than willing to take the story and run.

After the story broke, Florence went into hiding for a few days, leaving her mother and sister Mary to defend her in her absence. When she returned, Florence vehemently denied the allegations against her. Contending to anyone willing to listen, she’d not set foot in downtown St. Louis, where the Busy Bee Candy Shop was located, for several months. Secondly, Florence claimed that poison pen letters continued to arrive in the mail. And why on earth would she continue to write them if authorities didn’t believe her? Miss Mary McGraw corroborated both claims….to no avail. Neither the papers, police, nor the populace of St. Louis were swallowing Florence’s defense.

Then came the night of March 14, 1899.

*(I’ve read no less than four wildly different variations of Florence’s sister’s name in the newspaper articles I referenced for these posts — I’m sticking with Miss McGraw as it was the most legible of the lot.)

My 52 Weeks With Christie: A.Miner©2023