Theresa Knorr (nee Cross, aka Sanders, Pulliam, Harris...)

United States of America

Born: 14 March 1946

Died: -

Active: 1964 to 1985

Method of Disposal: Gunshot, starvation

Consequence: Life Imprisonment

Unfortunates:

• Clifford Sanders (first husband)
• Sheila Knorr (daughter)
• Suesan Knorr (daughter)

Fortunates:

• Terry Knorr (daughter)

Theresa Knorr was a woman who craved attention.  She fell quickly for any man who made her the centre of his world, and married him just as quickly.  She had a possessive nature, however, and eventually drove her men into the arms of other women.  At least that was what she told herself after each of her four marriages failed.  Her first husband, Clifford Sanders, had found this out to his detriment one night.  He threatened to leave.  She pulled a gun.  The judge later found a clear case of self-defence.  Theresa was only 18-years-old at the time and clearly not capable of murder. 

With all these marriages came the inevitable brood of children.  By 1970, there were six in total.  Three boys and three girls.  That many kids required a good measure of discipline.  You know, spare the rod and spoil the child, and other tried and true parenting formulas.  Indeed, no one could say her children was spoiled.  She ruled her home with an iron fist.  Or an iron bar, chair leg, cigarette lighter.  Whatever was within reach, really.

She kept all her children out of trouble in this way.  None of them escaped her teachings.  However, her attention was centred mostly on her older daughters, Sheila and Suesan.  She didn't like how pretty they were getting.  She didn't like how much attention this beauty might attract.  Attention that might be diverted away from her.  Theresa didn't like that.  Not one bit.

Thankfully, her boys were more obedient.  They would always do exactly as they were told, no matter what task she set them.  For example, Theresa came to realise that simply beating her daughter Suesan into unconsciousness wouldn't be enough after the girl started running away from home and telling her school counsellor horrendous tales about how she was being abused.  She was convinced that one of her ex-husbands had introduced Suesan into a cult and her daughter was now doing Satan's bidding.  When Suesan was returned home after running away again, Theresa enlisted the help of her sons to beat the devil out of her eldest daughter.

It seemed to do the trick, as Suesan was much more subdued afterwards.  For good measure, Theresa made sure that Suesan was handcuffed to her bed for a while so she wouldn't be able to run back to Satan. 

The handcuffs were eventually removed, but Theresa still didn't trust the girl.  Things would get better for a while and then Suesan would act up again.  It didn't seem to matter what Theresa threw at the Dark Lord (fists, a pair of scissors in Suesan's back) he just wouldn't learn.  Theresa even shot a bullet from a .38 revolver into Suesan's chest, but to no avail.

One day, Suesan decided she needed to move out of the family home.  Theresa agreed it was for the best, but she asked Suesan if she could have her bullet back.  She might need it if Satan ever reappeared in one of the other children.  Lead was hard to come by in those days.  After a few stiff bourbons and a handful of sleeping pills, Suesan was ready for surgery.  The bullet was removed, and Suesan stayed on the kitchen floor 'recovering'.

Unfortunately, the surgery was unsuccessful.  Theresa asked her sons if they would be good boys and prepare the family sedan for a trip.

Things got better around the Knorr home after that.  There was even some extra money, which her now eldest daughter Sheila obligingly brought in from her new profession as a Lady of Negotiable Affections.  Theresa was proud of her daughter's achievements, until one day she discovered that she had caught something her daughter had brought home from her job.  What made it worse was that Sheila denied she had done anything.  Denied it to Theresa's face!

There was only one thing for Theresa to do in such a circumstance.  Being handcuffed to the bed wasn't going to be enough this time.  In order to force a confession out of Sheila, Theresa locked her in a cupboard until she admitted her awful crime.  The other kids were ordered not to open the door for any reason, and Sheila was to be given no sustenance until she came clean.

After three days, there were no more sounds coming from behind the door.  There was a smell though.  Theresa told her youngest daughter to get a box for her sister because the boys needed to take her for a drive. 

It was at around this time that the youngest daughter, Terry, decided that there was definitely a pattern forming against the young women of the house.  She asked her mother if she could move out, and after dousing the family home with lighter fluid and setting it on fire like Theresa asked her to, she was granted her wish.  Theresa advised her against mentioning her sisters to anyone.  No need to bring up such unpleasantness.

A few years, a couple of stays in prison, and a few crates of bourbon later, Terry decided that she did want to talk about her sisters.  A lot.  She sat down with the police and told them her story. 

As it turned out, the police had been wondering why they had two unidentified women sitting in cold storage when no one was hollering about one missing girl, let alone two. 

All the remaining members of the family had become relatively hard to find, except for Theresa's son William who had perfected the lessons taught by his mother and was serving time for a murder he'd committed independent of his mother's coaching.  Theresa and her two protégés William and Robert were eventually arrested and charged with the murders of both Suesan and Sheila.  Being confronted with such a high price for honouring his mother's wishes, Robert turned against Theresa in return for a much lighter sentence.

When she realised that her boys were beginning to abandon her, Theresa decided to try to avoid a harsh punishment by pleading guilty.  Unfortunately for her, it was a little too late for her and she was sentenced to two consecutive life terms.  She will not be getting much change out of her twilight years if she lives that long.

Proof positive that for some people, having children really is a life sentence.

Vera Renczi, aka The Black Widow

Romania

Born: 1903

Died: Unknown (cerebral haemorrhage)

Active: 1920s and 1930s

Method of Disposal: Arsenic Poisoning

Consequence: Life Imprisonment

Unfortunates:

• Karl Schick (first husband)
• Joseph Renczi (second husband)
• Lorenzo Schick (son)
• At least 32 various lovers

The most important thing in a relationship or marriage is fidelity.  Vera Renczi believed this, and throughout her life she came to see this belief as something more precious than life itself.  The men who crossed her path also became well aware of how she felt about this.  Although by the time it was brought to their attention the first grains of arsenic had already begun to dissolve.

Vera’s childhood was spent in relative comfort.  She was born into a wealthy family, and with each passing year grew more and more beautiful.  With money and beauty behind her, Vera should have been happy with her life.  However, tragedy struck when her mother died before Vera was ten-years-old.  It is not clear how her mother’s death affected her, but soon after moving to Berkerekul Romania, it became clear Vera’s personality was changing.  She now wanted more.  More male attention.  More male companions.  More, more, MORE.  Not only that, but she had to have their undivided attention all the time. 

By the age of fifteen, Vera was constantly running away from home.  She was spending all her time with men much older than herself.  These relationships never seemed to last, seemingly due to her possessive and jealous nature.  She was suspicious of any man who did not spend all his spare time with her, assuming that if he was not with her then her beau must be cheating on her with someone else.  Maybe it was that harlot at Number 23, or that trollope of a woman that smiled at him yesterday.  Such a strumpet, Vera would fume.

When Vera decided it was time to settle down, she chose a much older man named Karl Schick.  He was a businessman who was away at work all day, leaving Vera alone with her thoughts for long periods.  Her suspicious nature muttered to her every day, and only became worse once she gave birth to a son, Lorenzo.  She had figured that the advent of a child would reign in her obviously philandering husband.  Oh, he said he had to work late to pay for the extra mouth to feed.  Did he really think she was that naïve?

As Vera would discover, it was a relatively simple task to make a deceitful spouse learn once and for all not to misbehave.  She would make sure he never did it again.  A bottle of arsenic, coupled with a quick slip of the wrist over a carefully positioned glass filled with her husband’s favourite wine, and Karl became a lot easier to deal with. 

Vera decided to dispense with the truth, opting to tell family and friends that she had been abandoned by the useless, good-for-nothing, womanising son-of-a-horses-arse, who couldn’t lie straight in bed if his life depended on it.  She mourned the loss of her role of wife for the appropriate twelve months, and then advised everyone that she had heard her husband had died in a car crash.

With her first husband now officially dead, Vera zeroed in on another prospective groom-to-be, Joseph Renczi.  Despite being nearer to her age, this second marriage was a stormy one.  This did nothing to quiet the jealous voices in Vera’s head.  After quietly enduring her new husband’s obviously roving eye for a number of months, Vera was once again fed up.  Once again, she became careless with the arsenic.

As before, Vera told everyone that her husband had left her.  She again set about playing the dutiful role of abandoned wife, ticking down the proper mourning period of twelve months.  Then Vera announced she had received a letter from Joseph, obligingly advising her that he had no intention of returning and she had best accept the reality.  Throwing her hands up in despair, Vera decided that marriage was not worth the effort.  She never wed again.

However, she was in no danger of being lonely.  With her stunning features and wealth, there was no shortage of admirers.  She had numerous affairs, many that she flaunted openly and some with married men about which she was rather more modest.  She still held fast to her belief that fidelity was paramount in a relationship, but she clearly couldn’t be held responsible if a man strayed towards her.  These other women just had to be more careful with their husbands.

Vera’s activities soon brought her to the attention of the local constabulary, mostly because the men she was connected with had a habit of disappearing soon after taking up with her.  Vera told them she was just as frustrated about the whole state of affairs as they were.  They just keep leaving her.  Or they were unfaithful.  Either way, she told them she was mystified as to why they couldn’t be located.  While the police had their doubts, there was no other evidence to suspect her and they went on their way.

Vera thought she could continue on with her merry dance for a long time to come.  She was quite enjoying the continuing attention she was receiving.  Unfortunately for her, the wife of one of her conquests had also taken notice.  She had followed her husband to Vera’s house.  When he did not return to her, she hurried to report his disappearance to the police.

This time, the police were not going to accept from Vera what was now just a flimsy excuse.  They searched her premises, eventually arriving in the wine cellar.  Instead of barrels of wine and cider, there were dozens of coffins, at least 30 of them.  Each one was lined with zinc, and each contained its own body.  Strangely, there was also a comfy looking armchair in the cellar.  Given the circumstances, Vera decided to confess to the murders of 32 men.  She also admitted that she’d lied about how her two marriages had ended, and advised that her son Lorenzo was also a victim.  He had stumbled on her makeshift crypt and was threatening her with blackmail, so she poisoned him with arsenic as well.

At her trial, Vera claimed that she did what she did out of love, saying that they had all been unfaithful and she wanted to make sure they wouldn’t leave her.  She said that she would sit in her comfy armchair and talk with the coffins for hours.  The judge was unmoved, sentencing her to life imprisonment.  Shortly after, Vera suffered a fatal cerebral haemorrhage.

There is no getting around the fact that Vera was quite an unwell person.  But you had to hand it to her; she achieved her aim of keeping a man.  While most woman chose stealing the remote or starting an argument to get some sort of response from the other half, Vera had a unique way of getting a man’s attention.

His undivided attention.

Jeanne Weber, aka Ogress of the Goulle d’Or

France

Born: 7 August 1874

Died: 1910

Active: 1905 to 1908

Method of Disposal: Strangulation

Consequence: Jail Term

Unfortunates:

• Infant Weber (offspring)
• Infant Weber (offspring)
• Georgette Weber (niece)
• Suzanne Weber (niece)
• Germaine Weber (niece)
• Marcel Weber (son)
• Lucie Aleandre (babysitting charge)
• Marcel Poyatos (babysitting charge)
• Auguste Bavouzet (babysitting charge)
• Marcel Poirot (inkeeper’s son)

Fortunates:

• Maurice Weber (nephew)
• Unnamed child (resident at children’s home)

Surviving childhood was an achievement in itself in the early 1900s. Any number of illnesses periodically threatened to snatch away little ones at random.  Parisian Jeanne Weber knew this well.  A couple of these random illnesses had already taken her two youngest children by early 1905.

She had no reason to grieve, however.  There were many children in her extended family, and she would jump at the chance to have little ones around her again. 

It was while she was babysitting for her sister-in-law in early March 1905 that Jeannie encountered the beginning of what can only be described as an incredible run of bad luck.  Her 18-month-old niece Georgette was playing just fine for a while, but all of a sudden she just got sick and then died.  The examiner could see nothing amiss, despite some strange bruises on the child’s neck.  He decided that it was just one of those random childhood illnesses. 

Georgette’s family was in clearly in shock at their loss, because when they found themselves in need of a babysitter a week or so later, it was to Jeanne they turned.  Of course, she would be delighted to look after two-year-old Suzanne, Georgette’s sister.  Don’t worry, Jeanne said.  Their only remaining child would be fine. 

As before, the afternoon of babysitting was uneventful.  That is, until Jeanne’s bad luck returned.  Convulsions, the doctor declared, signing the death certificate with a flourish and tipping his hat at the devastated parents.

By now, the rest of the Weber family were starting to feel for Jeanne.  Such bad luck, they said amongst themselves.  So many unfortunate and mysterious deaths.  They marvelled that she had the fortitude to ever look after another child.

They needn’t have worried.  When Jeanne’s brother nervously asked for her help with babysitting for a few hours two weeks after Suzanne’s death, she couldn’t have been more thrilled.  Germaine was a delight to look after, and at 7 years of age she was definitely past the danger age. 

Which made what happened next all the more inexplicable.  Seven year old children aren’t normally in the habit of choking, having mastered the art of chewing and swallowing fairly well by that age.  Jeanne’s brother could see that Jeanne have valiantly fought to save the child, the red marks on her neck proved that.  Luckily the child survived that day.

Jeannie was so concerned about Germaine’s health that the next day she returned to her brother’s house to see how the girl was faring.  Germaine’s father was touched by how she fretted over his child, and allowed Jeanne to sit with her while he pottered around in the backyard or something.  Imagine his surprise when Jeanne came running to him, saying Germaine had taken a turn.  This time however, they were too late.  This time it was diphtheria, another random illness.  There was all the classic signs, including red marks on the child’s neck. 

There must have been a lot of Diphtheria going about, because four days after Germaine died, Jeanne’s own child Marcel succumbed to the same fate as his cousin.  Such a shame.

Yes, March 1905 had clearly been a bad month for the Weber clan. 

Early April 1905 saw Jeanne invite two of her sisters-in-law for a meal at her home.  One of the sisters brought her son Maurice with her, and after the meal was finished and the dishes done, her visitors left to do a spot of shopping.  Maurice stayed behind to keep his aunt company.  Well, he was ten years old, practically an adult.  What’s the worst that could happen?

The shopping trip finished up early and the sisters returned for Maurice earlier than Jeanne had expected.  When they saw her standing over a choking Maurice with a demented expression on her face, it became rather clear to them just what had been going on all this time.

The police were called, and wasted no time in charging Jeanne with a total of 8 murders, including Lucie Aleandre and Marcel Poyatos, whose parents had also committed them into the care of Jeanne.  The police trotted out the theory that Jeanne had killed her son to prevent anyone from considering the deaths as anything more than unfortunate.  Jeanne trotted out eminent defence lawyer Henri-Robert, at which point the judge, jury and spectators promptly decided she was a grieving mother and clearly incapable of anything so crass as multiple murder.

Finding herself acquitted of such heinous accusations, Jeanne decided that with no real ties to Paris she was free to make her mark elsewhere.  She settled in the town of Villedieu, changing her name to Madame Moulinet.  Her occupation remained the same, and she soon found work with the Bavouzet family.  All seemed well, until Ms Moulinet was compelled to summon a police to the bedside of her newest babysitting charge, Auguste, who’d surrendered to one of the many random illnesses of which the good babysitter was only too familiar. 

Convulsions! was once again the doctor’s diagnosis.  However, he took a closer look when it was established that Ms Moulinet had also been known as Jeanne Weber.   Jeanne settled in for a second trial.  No, but wait, said the doctor.  I’ve checked again.  My mistake, it was only typhoid. 

After the second aborted trial, Jeanne drifted for a while, moving from Faucombault to Orgeville.  She picked up babysitting work where she could, now going by the name of Marie Lemoine.  Old friends who knew of her past allowed her to work in their Children’s Home, believing that all people deserve a chance.  She managed to last one a week before being caught with her hands around another child’s neck.  Rather than bothering the authorities with such a trifling issue though, they merely sent her on her way. 

One can imagine what her friends were thinking as they watched to make sure she left the area.  Maybe: Oh that Jeanne, whatever will she do next?

Jeanne found herself drawn back to Paris, but when she got there she really had nowhere to stay.  Eventually, the authorities arrested her for vagrancy and she spent some time in jail.  Considered sane, she was once again released back into the community.  With no children readily available for her child minding skills to be utilised, Jeanne tried her hand at a spot of prostitution. 

Her newfound profession netted her a husband, and she settled in with her new man at a room in a local inn.  The innkeeper and his wife lived in the establishment with their ten-year-old son Marcel. 

The proximity of the child to Jeanne’s living quarters brought her into regular contact with Marcel, and it wasn’t long before that old bad luck once again returned.  As before, she was found by the innkeeper with her hands on Marcel’s neck.  However, this time it took three swift punches to the face before Jeanne even considered releasing the lifeless body.  Jeanne had clearly been missing her favourite pastime.

Branded the Ogress of the Goulle d’Or, Jeanne entered her third trial.  She was declared insane and sent to the asylum at Mareville.  She stayed there for around two years, after which it appears the lack of available child victims got the better of her and she succeeded in strangling herself with her own hands.

Christa Lehmann, nee Ambros
Germany

Born: 1922

Died: -

Active: 1952 to 1954

Method of Disposal: Poisoning with E605 (Parathion)

Consequence: Life Imprisonment

Unfortunates:

• Karl Lehmann (husband)
• Kathe Lehmann (mother-in-law)
• Valentin Lehmann (father-in-law)
• Annie Hamann (best friend)
• Annie’s dog

Fortunates:

• Eva Ruh (Annie Hamann’s mother)
• Several of Eva Ruh’s neighbours

Christa loved a good funeral. They brought family and friends together, the food was always delicious and plentiful, and best of all, black was such a slimming color. It was a nice feeling, too, when the guest of honour at such an event wasn’t someone Christa had particularly cared much for.

Truth be known, she didn’t really get along with a lot of people she knew. She hadn’t been given much reason to like anyone. Her father had turned away from everything but alcohol after her mother died in a mental institution. Christa was essentially left to look after herself from an early age.

Christa had hoped to find a decent man when she was old enough to marry. Instead she found Karl Lehmann, who was identical to her father in both looks and manner. Soon she realised that Karl was even more enamoured with the bottle than her father had been. As the novelty of marriage quickly wore off, Christa realised she had two sub-standard father figures in her life. Soon even the fun of adultery couldn’t fill her needs. Her husband was always drinking so much; if he had heard the rumours, he hid it well. Or used it as an excuse to further drown himself.

Christa now wished the drinking would do him in. But the years went by, and Karl stubbornly remained alive. She began to think that maybe the inevitable just needed a helping hand. She had been using a new pesticide in the garden, and had found it to be relatively effective in its intended purpose. Perhaps the same rule could be applied here. As it was colourless and odourless, Karl would not suspect. Whether it was alcohol or parathion, it’s all poison in the end.

It had also been a while since the last funeral she’d attended, and Christa would be glad to get out of the house for once.

By September 1952 Christa was a widow and had thought she would be free to come and go as she pleased. However, she still had some baggage left over from the marriage; her late husband’s mother and father. She had assumed that with Karl gone, Kathe and Valentin Lehmann would go on their way. However, by the New Year it was becoming clear that intervention would once again be required. Kathe obligingly expired in January of that year, and Valentin quite suddenly and unexpectedly toppled off his bicycle in the middle of Main Street the following September. He’d just left home, having enjoyed a dessert prepared by Christa.

Christa was pleased with the success of her plan. As a red-blooded woman with newfound freedom, she began to enjoy the company of a number of American soldiers. Through her associations with the soldiers she soon met a woman named Annie, who’d lost her own husband in the war. They became close friends. Annie’s mother Eva, with whom Annie was residing, was not happy with the friendship. She didn’t like Christa and would voice such an opinion loudly and with great regularity, as any mother worth her salt would. Christa was none too pleased about this, but endured for the sake of her friend for as long as she could.

Not for too long, though. Thinking Eva might be won over by a thoughtful gift, she one day presented the woman with a beautiful chocolate truffle. In post-war Germany, such delicacies were rare. As a good will gesture, some of Eva’s neighbours were also given the same treat. Christa made sure to present one of the truffles to Eva herself; she had prepared it especially.

Eva accepted the offering, but didn’t eat it straight away. Instead she placed it into the fridge for later. As it turned out, Eva would not get a chance to try the truffle. Annie came home from work and opened the fridge. A few minutes later, she was lying on the floor alongside her pet dog, who had rushed to gobble up some of the chocolate that fell from Annie’s grasp and suffered the same fate.

Unlike the others, Annie’s death couldn’t be so easily pinned on natural causes. The authorities took a long look at Christa, as they had concluded that the chocolate was involved. Initially she was dismissed as there seemed little reason for her to kill her best friend. However, similarities were drawn between Annie’s death and the death of her father-in-law, which had been just as sudden.

Exhumations abounded. Christa’s poison of choice was discovered in all of her dearly departed, as well as in Annie’s beloved dog. When pressed for an explanation, Christa eventually confessed. “I don’t suppose I should have done it. But with the exception of Annie, they were all nasty people.”

Despite the defence’s plea that Christa was ‘morally primitive,’ the jury’s verdict was guilty. Christa was sentenced to life, the highest sentence the judge was able to give. Christa spent the following 23 years in prison, periodically attempting suicide without much success. Presumably, Parathion was in short supply where she was incarcerated, and Christa had never been terribly adept at the more manual killing mechanisms. After she was released, authorities in their infinite wisdom surmised that the best course of action when dealing with Christa was to provide her with a new identity and send her merrily on her way.  Hmmm.

Christa’s own killings stopped at four people and a dog. However, the publicity of her case sparked great interest in her choice of poison. Indeed, a score of murders and dozens of suicides were carried out using Parathion. This quite possibly makes her the most prolific unintentional mass killer in recent memory. It just goes to prove that there are some things only the Germans can perfect.

Anna Maria Zwanziger, nee Shoenleben

Germany

Born: 7 August 1760

Died: 17 September 1811
Active: 1808 to 1809

Method of Disposal: Arsenic
Consequence: Beheading

Unfortunates:

• Frau Glaser (Justice Glaser’s wife)
• Justice Grohmann (employer)
• Frau Gebhard (Magistrate Gebhard’s wife)
• Baby Gebhard (Magistrate Gebhard’s child)

Fortunates:

• Several guests of Justice Glaser
• Two of Justice Grohmann’s servants
• Several servants of Justice Gebhard

Anna Shoenleben understood the value of a good husband.  It was important to her that any prospective husband must hold respectable employment, be of good standing in the community, and be impeccable in dress and manner. She had grown up with considerable amount of wealth, and a woman of her particular means gets used to a certain standard of living.

Anna had been orphaned at the age of 5, but was taken in before too long by a wealthy benefactor who financed her schooling and ensured that her needs were met.  By the age of 15, Anna was well educated and remarkably skilled in needlework.


It was around this time, her benefactor arranged for her a husband, a lawyer by the name of Zwanziger.  Anna was unsure that her betrothed was a suitable match for her; he was a decade her senior and spent much of his time either buried in his work or a wine bottle.  She was eventually convinced by her guardian to accept Zwanziger's proposal.  The union lasted the better half of two decades, ending when Zwanziger's substance abuse got the better of him.  


By the time Zwanziger had drunk himself to death, he’d squandered her entire inheritance and then some.  Anna had never expected to have to work a day in her life.  Now, because of the mountains of debt her late husband had left her, her only option was to find some form of employment. 

Unfortunately, the only available work was domestic service.  Ugh, cleaning toilets, dusting, mopping and sweeping.  Not the future she had envisioned for herself as a young debutante.  She knew she had no other choice.  Time to get to work.  

The work was menial and low paying.  Eventually Anna had to resort to theft.  She would steal jewellery and other finery from her employers, and then disappear before the items were missed.  Her actions brought her to the attention of the police, and she stopped using her married name in order to avoid retribution.  Anna often found herself homeless, without friends, only able to find work by using her maiden name.  

The years went by.  Now approaching her fiftieth year, Anna’s best years had clearly departed.  She was no longer beautiful; some accounts likened her to a toad.  She could now only see people for their usefulness in her own betterment, and she resented those in a better place than her.  Nonetheless, her heart still craved that life she once knew.  Her newest employer was Justice Glaser, and with him she finally believed she had found that life again. 

Judge Glaser had recently separated from his wife.  He had also been considering changing his will to disinherit Frau Glaser.  Anna saw the potential in this circumstance; if she could reunite the two, and if something unfortunate should then happen to Frau Glaser, her husband would no doubt be in need of consoling.  Anna would ensure that she was there to nurse him through his grief, which would then lead to the judge proposing marriage.  Foolproof!

Frau Glaser indeed expired a few weeks later with a scrumptious home-cooked meal drizzled with arsenic.  However, no matter how hard Anna tried, the stubborn Glaser simply would not ask for her hand.  Even when a number of his guests became ill after a meal in his home, Glaser did not get the hint.  In the end, Anna threw her hands up in exasperation.  Clearly, her efforts to murder her way into this man’s heart were wasted.  It was time to move on.

Anna had gained a place in the home of Justice Grohmann, who suffered from gout and was often confined to his bed.  This time she had to be successful.  He was a bachelor, so there would be no competing with anyone for his affections.   She worked hard to show she was indispensible in his life, carrying out her daily chores with gusto and attending to him whenever he was bedridden.   


Then he announced his forthcoming engagement to a local woman.

Oh, for pity's sake! Anna muttered. She was getting annoyed by her continued bad luck, so in retaliation she lovingly cooked his favourite meal and garnished it with a liberal dose of her favorite poison.  And since it seemed silly to waste such an opportunity and so much good food, she fed the leftovers to a couple of the servants.  The servants were spared, however Judge Grohmann was not as lucky. 

Anna had thus far been quite unlucky in her pursuits of a good husband.  She knew a different approach was required.  This time around, she was certain the circumstances were right.  This time around, Anna had chosen Judge Gebhard, a man whose wife was already ill.  Perfect!

Unfortunately, the wife was suspicious enough of the new housemaid to voice her concerns that she was being poisoned.  Judge Gebhard could not conceive of such a thing and dismissed his wife’s fears.  Frau Gebhard died, as expected, soon after.  That just left the couple's only child, an 18 month old infant, who Anna was delighted to find out was fond of sweet biscuits.  A few of these biscuits dipped in specially prepared milk, and the child was also easily dispatched.

Still, the trusting Judge was unconvinced.  That is, until he began to feel a little queasy in the tummy himself.  It was at about that point his convictions swayed a bit.  Then he found some strange sediment in the bottom of his brandy glasses every night.  The servants started complaining of the same stomach upsets.  Slowly the penny dropped.

Judge Gebhard sent samples of every suspect edible foodstuff and liquid to the lab.  The bodies of Frau Gebhard and her baby were also exhumed.  When the results came back, it was found that a number of items had been contaminated with arsenic.  The bodies were riddled with it.  The investigators found that Anna had also been rather industrious before she'd decided once again it was time to move on.  She’d gone to quite some trouble to create an alibi, even emptying all the salt shakers and the salt cellar and replacing the contents with pure arsenic.  Evidently this was an attempt to exonerate herself by ensuring the poisoning would continue once she had left.

The authorities saw through this.  Anna was captured at Bayreuth in 1809.  Of course, the charges were ridiculous, completely trumped up!  The very thought!  Oh…these packages of white powder that you’ve found in my pockets?  They’re spices.  Yes, that’s it.

In light of the evidence found, Anna confessed.  On the day of her date with the headsman’s sword, she was heard by the executioner to have said, “It is perhaps better for the community that I should die, as it would be impossible for me to give up the practice of poisoning people.”

To be honest, she was probably right. Germany would really need its compliment of judges in years to come.  Nuremburg Trials, anyone?

Leonarda Cianciulli, aka The Soap-Maker of Correggio

Italy

Born: November 14, 1893

Died: October 15, 1970 (cerebral apoplexy)

Active: 1939 to 1940
Method of Disposal: Drugged, axed and used as a condiment
Consequence: Jail

Unfortunates:

• Faustina Setti (acquaintance)
• Francesca Soavi (acquaintance) 
• Virginia Cacioppo (acquaintance)

Leonarda Cianciulli was a resourceful woman. She knew how to make use of any leftovers, knew how to stretch a lira. It was the 30s, and money was tight. In those times, you made do.

Leonarda had good reason to be frugal. She had recently lost her home and all her worldly possessions in the Vulture Earthquake in 1930. She and her husband Raffaele cut their losses and moved to Correggio, where she started up her own business as a local fortune teller and self-appointed matchmaker for the local women. She soon became well known among the locals as a nice lady and a good neighbour.

During the course of her marriage, Leonarda was blessed with 17 pregnancies. Unfortunately, 3 resulted in miscarriages, and 10 died while they were still young. Leonarda was thus fiercely protective of the remaining 4 children. She would go to the ends of the earth to protect them, and would often consult with other fortune tellers and psychics to allay her fears that another child would be taken from her. Once when she was younger, she had been told that she would get married and have children, but that all her children would die. Leonarda would have none of it!

It was at about this time that her eldest and most favoured child, Giuseppe, became old enough to be conscripted. As it appeared Italy would indeed join the war effort and her son would be called up, Leonarda agonised over how she could protect him when he would be so far away. She again turned to the occult arts, employing ever darker means by which she could hold onto her remaining children.

It was at this time she had her epiphany: If another was to take the place of her son, this would balance everything and Giuseppe would not need to be taken from her. It just might work.

Leonarda had gotten to know quite a few people through her work. She knew what they wanted most dearly. Leonarda's mind wandered to her neighbour Faustina Setti, who desperately wished for a husband, and had come to her seeking help. Yes, Leonarda had told her, she would do her best to find one.

She spoke to Faustina, advising her that Leonarda had in fact found her a husband, but he was quite far away, in a town called Pola. She told Faustina to tell no one about her departure, but to write some letters and post cards which she could send later so that everyone would know she was fine. After the drug laced wine she'd served to her friend had done its work and Leonarda had done what was necessary to appease the higher power, she wondered whether there was a further use for what remained of her neighbour. She had been considering adding to her repertoire of skills, and had dabbled in soap making recently. She already had the caustic soda she had picked up just that morning at the market. And, well...waste not, want not!

With the caustic soda and the remains of Faustina, Leonarda soon had a compliment of soap products. To Leonarda's delight, she was also able to add some of the blood she'd saved to a mixture of flour, sugar, chocolate, milk and eggs. The blood added a wonderful crunchy texture to her patented tea cakes. Leonarda took great pride in serving the cakes to her friends and neighbours, watching as the cakes were quickly devoured.

It could have been that Leonarda felt that once the soap and tea cakes were gone, she needed to replenish the pantry. It could have been that she thought the fates might have blinked and missed her sacrificial offering. Or that she needed one life sacrificed for each of her surviving children. Whatever the reason, Leonarda was soon looking among her neighbours again for potential soap making and baking supplies. Francesca Soavi was another of her neighbours who had come to Leonarda, requesting help with attaining a new job. It just so happened that Leonarda had procured a position for her at another faraway location in Piacenza, at a girls' school. Leonarda thought it might be a nice surprise for Francesca to keep her new job a secret, so Francesca was to simply tell her kith and kin she was going away.

A quick drug-laced wine and a slip of her axe later, and Francesca was bubbling away nicely on stove, garnished with caustic soda. She was followed by Virginia Cacioppo, who had beseeched Leonarda to help her restart her opera career. Virginia, like the others, was sworn to secrecy about her impending trip away where she would work with a theatre director. Leonarda was especially pleased with her third sacrifice. After preparing Virginia in the pot, Leonarda added some cologne. She noted that the resulting soaps were particularly sweet, as were the tea cakes. Yes, that Virginia woman was really sweet!

However, consternations were stirring among Virginia's family members. Her sister-in-law had seen Virginia enter Leonarda's home, but had not seen her since. She took her concerns to the local constabulary who investigated her claims, finding a number of clues. Leonarda had not been as good at cleaning up after herself as she had been at cooking up a storm. When interviewed, Leonarda immediately admitted to everything. Denying everything might have undone all the cosmic good she had created with all her sacrifices.

Leonarda was given a thirty year jail term, along with three years in a criminal asylum. Leonarda survived her stint in jail, but once in the asylum she suffered a stroke from which she did not recover.

Leonarda had tried to secure her children's safety by offering the lives of others in place of her nearest and dearest. In the process she had managed to find a use for the leftovers. You could say many things about her, but you could never accuse Leonarda of being wasteful.

Dorothea Puente, nee Gray

United States of America

Born: 9 January 1929

Died: Not yet, unless you count the close call in September 2010
Active: 1982 to 1988
Method of Disposal: Drugged and buried in the garden
Consequence: Life Imprisonment

Unfortunates:

• Ruth Monroe (friend, business partner and tenant)
• Everson Gillmouth (fiance)
• Alvaro Montoya (tenant)
• Leona Carpenter (tenant)
• Dorothy Miller (tenant)
• Benjamin Fink (tenant)
• Betty Mae Palmer (tenant)
• James Gallop (tenant)
• Vera Faye Martin (tenant)

Fortunates:

• Malcolm McKenzie (tenant)
• John Terry (prospective tenant)
• Charles Willgues (prospective tenant)
• Homer Myers (tenant)

Dorothea Puente ran a good boarding home. Despite being in her 50s, she was still sprightly enough to care for the men and women who paid the $350 per month to enjoy her food and custom. The people for whom she cared were recovering from certain socially-awkward afflictions, and there didn't seem to be anyone in her tenants' immediate families available to look after them.

Occasionally a boarder would leave all of a sudden. They would get the urge to visit relatives in a faraway state, or simply drift away. This was most vexing, but propitiously there would always be one more unfortunate down-at-heel who needed a room on rather short notice. Dorothea thought it best not to mention anything when her tenants moved on, and faithfully collected their Government payments on their behalf so that a nice little nest egg would be available for them upon their eventual return.

Given how busy she had to have been, her neighbours would marvel at how she was able to find time to tend to her own needs. She was always well dressed, with her hair nicely styled. She also attended charity events, becoming quite the socialite in the process. It was hard to believe she even had the time!

While she ran the boarding house by herself, Dorothea had not always been single. She had once been engaged to a man called Everson Gillmouth. Unfortunately, the engagement would not come to fruition due to Everson leaving the house one day, never to return. Whatever could have happened to him? she would say. It must have been some comfort to her to now be surrounded by so many people. She would definitely never feel alone in such circumstances.

Eventually, some police came looking for one of her boarders, Alvaro Montoya, and asked to have a look around to see if there was any clues as to where he might have gone. Dorothea was only too pleased to allow them entry. There wasn't anything inside the house that piqued their interest, so they decided to check the back garden. Maybe he had buried something in the garden to indicate where he had gone. At the very least, overturning the soil would make gardening easier for Dorothea to handle. The police went to get the shovels from their vehicle, which they kept in the boot for just such an occasion.

How shocking it was to Dorothea, then, when bones and items of clothing were discovered under a few centimetres of soil. She was quite rattled, and had a sudden need for coffee at her local hotel. The police saw no issue with her leaving on her own, as all their manpower was needed with the dig, and she made her way out of the house.

Eventually, 5 bodies were unearthed. By now 4 hours had elapsed since Dorothea had left the house, and that was a long time for a coffee. Someone clearly should have gone with the lady to see she came to no harm.

As it turned out, Dorothea had become a bit confused as she made her way to the hotel for her much needed skinny-caramel-mocchaccino. She had somehow managed to catch two taxis and a bus, before realising she'd ended up in Los Angeles, which is quite a distance from her Sacramento home. It was clear she'd had a lapse in mental processing, which does happen to people as they age.

Once her head was clear, Dorothea felt it best to stay where she was. After all, there were so many people in her home, she should really stay out of their way and let them do their job. Besides, she had gotten herself into something of a bother last time she tried to help. One of her previous tenants, Malcolm McKenzie, had once become ill to the point of catatonia. She had been simply trying to find some medication to help him, by rifling through his belongings, but he had thought she was stealing from him and she had been sent to jail for 5 years for her efforts. Dorothea knew it was all just a misunderstanding, and it appeared the parole board thought the same, because she was allowed to go home 2 years early.

No, it was best to stay away from the Sacramento area completely.

While waiting out the day at a bar in Los Angeles, Dorothea struck up a conversation with a man called Charles Willigues. She was feeling better after the haze of confusion that had led her to Los Angeles, although for some reason she accidentally told him her name was Donna Johansson. She wasn't sure how long she would need to stay in this particular town, and was happy when Charles agreed to let her stay with him.

Charles indeed did like the lady, although she seemed oddly familiar. He didn't know why until he got back to his house and turned on the TV. At once he understood, and called the TV station, who in turn called the police.

Dorothea found herself charged in the deaths of 9 people, most of whom were her tenants. She was aghast! "Ok, I cashed their cheques...but I'm a good person!"

Dorothea felt she had to defend herself. Of course most of her tenants had no close relatives to speak of; she tended to end up with those in society every one else had given up on. And she only cashed the cheques so that the money would be there for use when it was needed.

Really, it wasn't as if everyone she came in contact with ended up under the rhododendron. Homer Myers had been one of the tenants who had decided not to take up Dorothea's offer to take over his finances, and he was perfectly alive and well. John Terry, another gentleman to whom Dorothea had offered a room, had politely declined and he was also still above ground.

Despite Dorothea's protestations, the prosecutors had a strong case. She had broken a previous parole condition, that she not associate with the elderly. When asked why she had continued to maintain a boarding house without notifying the relevant parties, she advised that the subject had never come up.

Dorothea had apparently been a note taker. Authorities had found a list that appeared to contain the first initials of all the victims, with a note of the amount each person was getting from their Government benefit. And when it was found that all the bodies contained varying amounts of drugs that had been prescribed to Dorothea herself, this served to seal her fate.

Dorothea was found guilty in the end of three of the murders and sentenced to life imprisonment, without the possibility of parole. One would have thought the part about parole went without saying.