The Mushroom Murders by Greg Haddrick
- NZ Booklovers
- 9 minutes ago
- 3 min read

Erin Patterson – convicted murderer – stares down her nose on the mushroom-coloured cover of this fictionalised retelling of the murder trial that captivated people worldwide. The story unfolds through the eyes of a female juror who must decide if Patterson deliberately served poisonous death cap mushrooms to members of her ex-husband’s family.
The intensity of the nine-week trial is captured in a conversational tone that’s more like a chat between friends than a courtroom report.
As soon as my bum hit the seat [in the jury box] … I glanced at Erin and smiled. … I was on the jury for the ride of a lifetime.
The narrator offers a wry, often irreverent, perspective on everything from jury selection to the characters in the courtroom. She outlines how the Australian justice system works, including the jury selection and courtroom procedures, what is and is not considered evidence, the presumption of innocence, the need to distinguish between witnesses’ credibility and reliability, and the legal benchmark of ‘beyond reasonable doubt’.
Justice Christopher Beale reminds the jury that Patterson does not have to prove anything or to demonstrate that she is innocent. It is up to the prosecution to prove the charges they have brought against her.
‘You may only convict the accused of an offence if you are satisfied that her guilt is the only reasonable conclusion to be drawn from the whole of the evidence, both direct and indirect.’
The strength of the book lies in Haddrick’s fresh take on a story that was extensively covered in the media. He reveals additional details, although clarifies that he did not speak with any of the jurors.
All the evidence our narrator discusses in the book comes directly from, and only from, the evidence [the] jurors heard and saw during the trial.
Haddrick is a middle-aged male, a screenwriter and a producer. His attempts to channel a woman in her late 40s are at times unconvincing and the fictional narrator’s past is a distraction. She’s a self-described “divorced, middle-aged woman with a thyroid problem, renting a one-bedroom apartment in a country town”. There are cryptic references to disordered eating, her job as a picture framer, and the extent to which she might or might not really “know men”.
… I’ve observed them in the wild and even seen a couple in captivity, which is not pretty, but still, I’m no expert.
The writing is peppered with idioms and clichés – “Hello, hello, hello,” thinks a policeman. The narrator decides that one “cop … could slip his shoes under my bed anytime” although the lone survivor of the poisonous meal “didn’t get my juices flowing”. Do Australian women of that age still exclaim “Lord love a duck” or call people “diddums”?
Throughout the trial the narrator becomes increasingly frustrated by Patterson’s deceit and excuses. She eventually suggests that Patterson is a liar who could have represented Australia on the world stage if lying were an Olympic sport.
The only image inside the book is a Milly-Molly-Mandy style map of key locations. It includes Patterson’s home, nearby hospitals, and the Transfer (recycling) Station where she promptly and unsuccessfully attempted to dispose of the dehydrator used to dry out foraged mushrooms.
The book has its light moments, but it’s a sombre tale. Three people died and a fourth was critically ill, although recovered. The narrator and her fellow jurors conclude that Patterson is guilty. Yet the motive remains unclear.
… the evidence and testimony presented to us in court … was enough to convince us beyond reasonable doubt that she definitely did it – but far from enough to tell us why.
“What do you think?” the narrator asks the reader at the end of the book. I’m left wondering what was going through Patterson’s mind as she prepared the meal that sealed her fate, why she had been facing three other attempted murder charges against her former partner, and whether there was any evidence excluded from the public record. Haddrick’s book fills in many gaps, yet a non-fictional account may offer greater clarity and insight.
Reviewer: Anne Kerslake Hendricks
Allen & Unwin
