Sarah Ann Everard, later known as Annie Hearn, was born in 1895 in Middle Rasen, Lincolnshire. She was one of several children born to Robert and Betsy Everard. Her father worked as a gardener, and the family lived modestly, moving between locations in England. From an early age, Sarah seemed drawn to reinvention and adopted identities that did not belong to her. She presented herself to many as a war widow, showing a photograph she claimed was her late husband, “Dr. Hearn,” who supposedly died in France during the First World War. The photograph was later revealed to be of a Vane-Tempest baronet who had no connection to her at all.

By 1921, she moved to Cornwall to live with her paternal aunt, Mary Ann Everard, and her older sister, Minnie Everard, at Trenhorne House near Lewannick. For several years, they shared a quiet household. But within less than a decade, both relatives were dead under circumstances that would soon arouse suspicion. Mary Ann died in 1926, and Minnie died in the summer of 1930. Both were buried in the Lewannick churchyard without immediate inquiry.

After her sister’s death, Annie began working as a cook and housekeeper for William and Alice Thomas at nearby Trenhorne Farm. Those who knew her recalled that she appeared to be infatuated with William Thomas, though he did not return her affection. Despite this, she was friendly with both William and Alice and maintained a helpful, obliging presence in their home. Privately, Annie cultivated the fantasy that she and William could have a life together if Alice were gone.

On October 18, 1930, Annie accompanied William and Alice Thomas on an outing to Bude. There, they stopped at Littlejohn’s Cafe. They brought sandwiches along—salmon sandwiches Annie had prepared herself. During the meal, Alice picked the sandwich offered to her by Annie. A few hours later, she was violently ill, vomiting and struggling to recover. The local physician diagnosed food poisoning.

But Alice did not improve. In late October, she received a second dose of arsenic. By November 3, she was so sick she had to be transported to Plymouth Hospital, where she died early the next morning.

After Alice’s death, Annie left Trenhorne House. To deflect suspicion, she staged a fake suicide, leaving her distinctive checked coat on the cliffs at Looe, hoping authorities would believe she had thrown herself into the sea. Inquests into Alice’s death revealed arsenic poisoning, and investigators ordered the exhumation of Annie’s sister Minnie and her aunt Mary Ann. Both bodies contained arsenic. The press soon sensationalized the case. The Daily Mail offered a £500 reward for Annie’s capture.

By then, Annie had assumed a new identity—Annie Faithful—and secured a job as a cook and housekeeper for architect Cecil Powell in Torquay. A tip from Powell himself led police to arrest her there in February 1931.

At trial, Annie was charged with the murders of her sister and Alice Thomas. She was not charged in her aunt’s death due to lack of direct evidence. The prosecution argued that Annie poisoned Minnie slowly over seven months and murdered Alice with poisoned sandwiches and a final dose. Forensic experts testified about the presence of white arsenic in all three bodies, and a local chemist confirmed Annie had purchased arsenic-based weedkiller years before. The defense countered that arsenic could have come from contaminated soil and challenged the reliability of exhumation results. The court ruled that Minnie’s diary—where she wrote that she feared Annie was poisoning her—was inadmissible evidence.

After eight days, on June 23, 1931, Annie was acquitted of all charges, despite widespread public belief in her guilt. The judge’s instructions to the jury heavily favored the defense, and the circumstantial nature of the evidence left room for reasonable doubt.

After the trial, William Thomas abandoned Trenhorne Farm due to the scandal. Annie slipped quietly north to live with a younger sister in Yorkshire, where she likely assumed another name. She vanished from public record, and no confirmed account of her later life exists.

Her story, with its poisoned sandwiches and false identities, inspired Agatha Christie’s 1940 novel Sad Cypress, immortalizing the case in crime literature.