
Some poisons carry distinctive flavours or scents: strychnine tastes bitter, cyanide smells of almonds, and so on. Chocolates with a filling are perfect for adulterating, because they’ve got a molten core that can conveniently hold whatever illicit substance our villain wants to insert.

With some skill, the outer chocolate shell can be pierced and then repaired, making the addition less obvious. They’re usually small enough that the recipient will put a whole chocolate in their mouth in one bite, meaning that they aren’t going to be nibbling and studying what’s inside.

First, there’s the chocolates themselves. When you think about it, there are really few better vehicles for poison than a traditional box of chocolates. Today, we’re biting into some delicious death by chocolate. Boxes of chocolates especially - every experienced reader of whodunnits knows to check the bottom of their favourite truffle to see if it shows signs of having been tampered with.īut half a century before the likes of Agatha Christie and Anthony Berkeley were gleefully serving up these deadly treats, the case of the so-called Chocolate Cream Killer had made real the idea that an innocent gift of chocolate might not be quite so innocent after all. Whatever the reason, crime fiction of the 1920s and 1930s is littered with sweets that pack a deadly punch.


Maybe there was a practical aspect to it too: poisoners need to introduce their deadly wares to their victims unobtrusively, and it’s far less suspicious to make a gift of a nice treat than a meat pie, say. Perhaps it’s merely the symbolism that appealed: the sugary flavour of a treat that conceals the bitter taste of death is the ultimate in contrasts. Caroline: There’s something about the combination of sweetness and poison that was irresistible to the writers of golden age detective fiction.
