The Psychic Murder Detective

37m

In 1987, the grieving family of a murdered woman turn to a psychic for help solving the case. Police are skeptical… until the psychic’s visions illuminate new evidence that no one else could have possibly known.

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This interrogation is going nowhere.

The suspect is seated across from you, arms folded, head cocked in smug defiance.

He thinks you have nothing on him, and in a way, He's right.

So now you try something else.

The only option you have left.

You begin describing specific details about the crime, but none of what you're saying is from the case file.

This isn't the sort of evidence that police are able to obtain.

You watch it happen in real time.

The bravado drains from the suspect's face.

His eyes widen.

His breathing quickens.

The expression on his face turns quizzical.

What he wants to know is...

how?

Because the details of the murder you're describing, no living person could possibly know.

Saturday, August 8th, 1987.

In the small town of Belvedere, New Jersey, the late afternoon sun beats down.

It's almost dinner time, and it's still close to 90 degrees.

Kids run through sprinklers in their backyards.

The smell of hamburgers on a grill wants through the air.

Inside the Belvedere Police Department, an old metal desk fan rattles.

It's stuffy.

It's one of those long, hot summer days that seems to have no end.

It's then that the phone rings.

Belvedere PD doesn't get many calls.

The town is simply too small and too safe.

And when they do, the calls are never like the one they get today.

Dispatch answers.

There's a male voice on the other end of the line.

He's hysterical.

It's hard to understand him at first, so Dispatch tells him to take a deep breath.

The man does so and then says it's his girlfriend.

Please come quick.

He's found her in her apartment and she's dead.

Minutes later, Officer Kent Sweigert arrives at the Blair House apartment complex in Belvedere.

Like the rest of the town, it's quiet here.

Unassuming.

Still, though, he prepares for the worst.

He draws his service weapon and enters the first floor apartment in question.

Inside, the man who called the police, Paul McCarran, is standing alone in the living room.

He appears shocked, dazed even.

Swiger looks around and sees no one else.

Nothing seems to be out of place.

But when he moves to the apartment's bedroom, he makes a horrific discovery.

Everywhere around him, there's blood.

It's splattered on all four walls, as well as the ceiling.

It's pulled in dark patches on the floor, and a massive amount of blood blankets the body of a woman.

She lies lifeless on the bed.

She's face up.

Her arms are tied behind her back with an extension cord.

Her nightshirt is pulled around her head.

With this much blood, Swigert assumes that she's been shot.

But he's about to find out that what happened to this woman is even more barbaric than he can imagine.

The woman is 42-year-old Elizabeth Cornish, a nurse and divorced mother of five adult daughters.

She recently moved back to Belvedere to be closer to her family and had resided at the Blair House apartments for about a year.

When her parents are notified of her death later that evening, they're told, as Officer Swigert assumed, that she was shot.

But upon closer inspection, the Belvedere police realize that they were mistaken.

There are no bullet wounds on Cornish's body and no evidence of a firearm.

The autopsy quickly reveals that Cornish died of Blunt Force injuries, at least 21 hits to the head with a hammer.

And even worse, the claw end of it.

Cornish was beaten so badly that her skull was punctured and bone was exposed.

There's also evidence that she was sexually assaulted and that the time of death was midnight.

Swigert and the Belvedere Police Department are in over their heads.

They never get cases this gruesome, this violent.

This is the first murder in their town in nearly 100 years.

To help them wrap their hands around this case, they call in the team from the Warren County Prosecutor's Office, led by a Captain Dave Heater.

Heater drives his car from the prosecutor's office over to the apartment complex on Prospect Street.

It's a quiet neighborhood.

Shockingly so.

He parks and ducks under the crime scene tape, striding across the lawn with the confidence of a man who's investigated his fair share of murder cases.

And yet, when he glances into the apartment, the sheer amount of blood catches him slightly by surprise.

He asks an officer already on the scene.

whether the murder weapon has been found.

The answer comes back, no, they haven't found a hammer or anything of the sort.

Heater and his officers make the rounds to other tenants in the apartment complex.

No one can remember hearing any screams or disturbances around midnight on August 8th.

These people seem sincere and honest, but just to be sure, Heater gives them all polygraph tests.

And everyone, as expected, passes.

Following this, Heater turns his eye towards Cornish's boyfriend, Paul McCarran, the man who initially called 911.

McCarron claims that he was out fishing all day Saturday and found Cornish's body that afternoon when he came back.

As soon as McCarron mentions fishing, Heater perks up.

Because on the grass just beneath Cornish's bedroom window, they had just found a pair of clippers used by fishermen to trim their lines.

And that's not all they found either.

Cornish's bedroom window had been removed and was leaning against the exterior wall of the building.

At first glance, it would seem that the killer removed the window in order to access Cornish's apartment.

However, upon inspection, Heater's men find a fingerprint on the inside of the window pane.

Because of this, Heater draws the conclusion that the killer must have taken the window out after Cornish was murdered.

He further concludes that this was done to trick the police into thinking that a stranger came in from the outside, when, in fact, it was someone Cornish knew who entered her apartment through the front door.

At least, that's the theory Heater's working with.

And so, with that window with the fingerprint on the inside, with those fishermen's clippers, Heater zeroes in on the obvious suspect, the boyfriend, Paul McCarran.

The lab will take about a week or so to analyze the print.

In the meantime, McCarran's brought in for questioning at the Belvedere Police Department.

He indulges Heater and the detectives for a few minutes and then has a change of heart.

He's done talking.

He wants a lawyer.

Heater isn't surprised that McCarran has clammed up.

He's seen this before, the sudden vow of silence that is in fact an indication of guilt.

He goes to give the family members of the deceased the promising news.

It seems that they've found their man.

But the family's reaction is not at all what Captain Heater expects, because they don't believe him.

They tell him to his face that he's got the wrong man.

They know McCarran well.

He's a great guy.

He loved Elizabeth.

There is absolutely no way that he could have done this.

The family and Heater leave the meeting with differing agendas.

Heater, who knows all too well that it's almost always the boyfriend, hands off to prove his theory correct.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth's family members, especially her sister Peggy Goebel, leave the meeting concerned that an innocent man is about to be accused of murder.

Goebbels firmly believes that there's another explanation for what happened to her sister, something the police just aren't seeing.

And if standard police procedures aren't working, it means that she'll have to try something else, something unorthodox, to uncover the truth.

Since August 16th, Elizabeth Cornish has been dead for just over a week.

20 miles away in Flanders, New Jersey, a phone rings.

Maybe it's everyday intuition, or maybe it's something more.

But before she even answers it, Nancy Weber has a sense that this is no ordinary call.

She picks up.

A woman's voice introduces herself as Peggy Goebel.

She believes Weber might be able to help solve a mystery currently unfolding in Belvedere.

Believe it or not, this kind of call is not unusual for Weber to receive.

For several years, she's been making a name for herself among law enforcement circles as something of a psychic detective.

Weber is intrigued.

She can hear, she can sense the unspeakable pain and anxiety in Goebel's voice.

She agrees to talk, but it needs to be in person.

Proximity is very important to her work.

It's also absolutely crucial that Goebel tells her nothing more.

No details about the situation whatsoever.

Weber's done this enough times to know that she must piece together the mystery in her own mind and not be clouded by outside information.

She can't explain exactly how she does it.

It's something that Weber has been able to do for as long as she can recall.

Her first vision came to her when she was only two and a half years old.

She looked through the belly of one of her mother's friends and saw something inside.

And then thereafter, a voice told her, baby.

Her mother's friend had not told anyone that she was pregnant yet, not even her husband.

But Weber saw and heard the truth on her very own.

As a kid, Weber didn't think that she was any different from anyone else.

It was only when she got older that she realized that she had a talent.

And so, as word got out about her abilities, people began coming out of the woodwork to ask her for help.

And the most desperate of these people were the family members of killed and missing persons.

It was here that Weber found her niche.

She found it endlessly rewarding to help these people find closure and justice.

By this time, she'd already aided a number of grieving families in police investigations.

including a particularly high-profile case in 1982 involving the abduction and murder of two young women from the area.

When the police's trail ran cold, they reached out to Weber, who had a full-time psychic, medium, and medical intuitive practice.

With her strange abilities, Weber was able to envision things that the police could have otherwise never discovered, including a green sedan with the name James.

Two clues that would ultimately lead the police straight to the murderer.

James J.

Kodotik, who drove a green Chevy sedan.

When inspected, the interior of the vehicle contained damning physical evidence, linking him to both murders.

Whatever closure or justice Peggy Goebel is seeking today, Weber hopes that she'll be able to provide it.

She gives Goebel her address, come by, and together they'll see what can be done.

When Goebel arrives, Weber ushers her inside.

She reminds Goebel that she should tell her no details because they would only interfere with her work.

Goebel abides.

The two women sit across the kitchen table from each other.

Weber focuses on the aura surrounding Goebel, and she can sense an overwhelming feeling of grief.

She can tell that there's been a grey boss.

Weber then closes her eyes.

And there, in her mind, she sees a woman.

The woman is tied up in her bed.

She's covered in blood.

Weber opens her eyes and asks Goebel if this woman is her sister.

Goebel nods, the tears streaming down her face.

Yes, it's her sister, Elizabeth Cornish.

Weber asks if the boyfriend is the chief suspect in her case.

Again, Goebbels nods.

And that's when Weber looks Goebel directly in her eyes and states,

He is not the killer.

It's been over a week since Elizabeth Cornish's body was found, and Sergeant Tom Traynor of the New Jersey State Police is getting restless.

It's another hot one today.

Even though he's standing in the shade of a large maple tree, he can't keep from sweating.

The tree is in front of Elizabeth Cornish's apartment building.

Trainer and a few other investigators are gathered there, listening intently as Captain Heater brings them up to speed on the case.

It's not looking good.

There are zero eyewitness reports.

The family refuses to believe that the boyfriend did it, even though he's refusing to talk.

The only thing they do have is the single fingerprint from the bedroom window.

Trainer wipes his brow.

He knows that the lab will take forever to process the print.

He figures all they can do right now is retrace some of Captain Heater's initial steps to see if they missed something.

It's then that he notices a woman dressed as a civilian striding across the lawn towards them.

Trainer doesn't recognize her, but he assumes it's someone from the apartment complex who wants to talk.

The woman appears to be deep in thought as she makes her approach.

It's almost as if every sight, sound, and sensation she's experiencing is weighing heavy on her mind.

The woman walks directly up to Trainer, extends her hand, and introduces herself as Nancy Weber, the psychic who will be helping them today.

Trainer's first instinct is to laugh, but he remains professional and instead turns to give Heater a look of disbelief.

But Heater isn't laughing.

He explains to Trainer that he's worked with Weber in the past, and he's hoping that she'll be able to offer the assistance they so desperately need.

Heater and Weber head off towards the front of the apartment building, and Trainer follows, completely baffled.

The captain can't be serious about this, can he?

A psychic helping on a homicide investigation?

They reach the front of the apartment building, and Weber addresses the group of cops.

She doesn't want to be told any specifics about the investigation before they begin.

Her visions have her convinced that McCarran is not the killer.

There's murmuring among the group.

Trainer's brow furrows.

This contradicts the evidence that the investigation has uncovered so far, like those fishermen clippers on the ground outside, underneath the bedroom window.

If the killer is not McCarran, then who on earth does this so-called psychic believe it is?

Weber politely calls for silence as she begins her work.

Trainer takes a deep breath and looks on incredulously as Weber takes in the scene.

She walks into the building and stops at the base of the interior staircase that leads up to the second floor apartments.

For some reason, she seems fixated on these stairs.

Suddenly, her eyes widen.

She points to the landing at the top of the stairs.

She says she just saw a shadow climb the stairs and disappear.

She's getting an overwhelming feeling that this shadow belongs to the killer.

Traynor isn't ready to buy Weber's theory.

He was standing right there next to her, looking at the same set of stairs, and he did not see a shadow.

Traynor remains skeptical as they move along to Cornish's apartment.

Inside, the bedroom is still as it was on the day her body was found.

Traynor looks at all the bloodstains on the walls, ceiling, and floor and is reminded of the brutality of the crime.

Weber, meanwhile, seems to be looking at something else entirely.

She tells Tranor and Heater that she sees another man in the room.

He's about 5'10.

He has a scar on his right cheek, and he's wearing a western belt buckle around his waist.

She closes her eyes.

She's having another vision.

This one is more of a feeling than an image, though.

It's about when the murder took place.

Their timeline is all wrong.

This did not happen at midnight.

Cornish was murdered much, much later, closer to 3 a.m.

or so.

Trainer pushes back.

The medical examiner already concluded that Cornish died around midnight.

Weber, however, is insistent that she's right.

Captain Heater shoots Trainer a glance.

Let the woman do her work.

Another vision is coming to Weber now.

This time, it's not a person or a feeling, but a name.

First name John.

Last initial, R.

She recalls the shadow she saw go up the stairs only a few minutes ago.

She asks the name of the tenant who lives in the apartment above Cornish.

Traynor looks at his notes and is surprised by what he sees.

The man upstairs is named John Reese Jr.

He lives with his fiancée and her two daughters and works manual labor at a local sawn farm.

But as he explains to Weber, they've already ruled out Rhys as a suspect along with the other neighbors.

Reese has an alibi for where he was that night around midnight, and he passed a polygraph test.

Now it's Weber's turn to push back.

If she's right and the murder happened three hours later than they think, then Reese, of course, could have passed the polygraph test.

He was asked, after all, about his whereabouts at midnight, not at three in the morning.

Weber implores Heater and the others to take another look at Rees.

And so, Heater turns to Trainer and tells him to get up there.

He heard the lady.

Annoyed and sweating, Trainer takes the stairs up to the second floor.

He knocks on the door of the unit directly above Cornish's, and a man answers.

It's John Reese.

The first thing Traynor sees is the scar on Rhys's right cheek, and then the next, just as Nancy Webber described, a Western belt buckle.

Three days later, August 19th.

Sergeant Traynor is sitting at his desk, wondering if it's too late in the afternoon for another cup of coffee, still trying to make sense of the things Nancy Weber said she saw.

It goes against his nature to blindly believe the things she sees, but he can't deny that what she's seen so far has been eerily accurate.

His phone rings.

He picks it up immediately, hoping it's the call he's been waiting for.

And it is.

Captain Heater's on the line.

and he's got good news.

The fingerprint from Elizabeth Cornish's bedroom window finally came back from the lab.

And it's a direct match for John Rees.

Trainer stands up out of his chair, coursing with excitement.

He shoots a glance at the clock on the wall.

He knows Reese is getting off work at the Sod Farm right now.

And so, wasting no time, he drives straight over to the Blair House apartments.

Minutes later, he's parking his squad car outside the apartment complex.

His pulse is pounding, so he takes a deep breath.

He wants to be composed for this.

He's actually developed a nice rapport with Reese since they first spoke.

Emboldened by Weber's visions, Trainor's gone back to the upstairs neighborhood a few times to ask more questions about the night of Cornish's murder.

Rhys hadn't gotten squirrely at all.

In fact, he's fielded all of Trainor's questions easily and comfortably.

Just like an innocent person would.

Traynor walks up the stairs to Rhys' apartment and knocks on the door.

Reese answers.

He's drinking a beer and looks exhausted from that day's work.

His clothes stained and dirty.

There's a TV playing loudly in the next room.

Striking the same friendly, conversational tone, Trainor tells Rhys that they found his fingerprints on Cornish's bedroom window.

The same window that was found removed and leaning up against the apartment building.

And then Trainer asks him point blank why they would find his print there.

Rhys doesn't miss a beat.

His explanation is quick and succinct.

Cornish's window would often get stuck, and Rhys, being the nice neighbor he was, would go over and help her get it unstuck when asked.

This is news to Trainer.

At no point in their previous questioning of Rhys did he ever mention going inside Cornish's apartment.

An hour later, Traynor's back at his desk, trying to determine if he thinks Reese is telling the truth.

Reese's explanation was so quick and so genuine, it was believable.

Traynor picks up the phone and calls Peggy Goebel.

He wants to know if she ever remembers her sister mentioning her neighbor helping her with her bedroom window.

But Goebbels' reply is firm.

Her sister never mentioned anything like this.

And even more, her bedroom window never got stuck.

In fact, it was exactly the opposite.

That window was so loose that it had to be held in place with small pieces of wood.

Trainer thanks Goebel for the info and hangs up.

Taking a deep breath, he leans back in his chair to clear his head.

He finds this discrepancy troubling.

If Reese is lying, he certainly doesn't seem like it.

But a lot of the evidence, psychic and otherwise, seems to be pointing towards Rhys being their man.

And yet, it can't be him.

He has an alibi for the time of the murder.

Trainer's phone rings.

Again, it's Captain Heater.

He's just received word from the medical examiner.

They've only just realized that they've made a mistake.

It turns out that when they were poring over crime scene evidence again, they determined that the time of death was not midnight.

as first thought.

It actually happened much closer to the wee hours of the morning, 2, maybe 3 a.m.

This is the same time visualized by Weber while inside Cornish's apartment.

It's also a part of the evening that John Reese does not have an alibi for.

Trainer can hardly believe it.

This, coupled with Reese's fingerprint, changes everything.

But a fingerprint and psychic visions are not a smoking gun.

and a smoking gun is what Trainer needs, or rather, a bloody hammer.

And so, Trainer goes back to the one person who helped them get this far.

He calls Nancy Weber and asks her to come to his office.

The police need more help than only she can provide.

The following day, Weber and Trainer are seated across a table from each other in the conference room.

Traynor doesn't go into detail about Rhys and the window, but he does reveal to Weber that the time of death has now been altered to match her version.

Weber nods ever so slightly.

Trainer can tell by the subtle smile on her face that she knows he's starting to come around to her strange methods.

Trainer thanks Weber for her assistance thus far and asks if she can do one more thing for them.

They need help locating the murder weapon.

Weber again nods her head.

She asks Trainer not to tell her anything else and closes her eyes.

Trainer watches intently.

He can see her eyes moving behind her eyelids, almost like she's dreaming.

They sit in complete silence for a while.

So long, in fact, that Trainer grows uncomfortable, as though he's watching something very private take place.

Finally, Weber's eyes pop open.

She asks for a piece of paper and something to write with.

And immediately, Trainer slides the items across the table to her.

Weber picks up the pencil and without another word, begins to draw.

Trainer holds his breath as she sketches out what appears to be a long road.

Then she draws a few trees at the end of the road.

And then finally, just beyond the rough sketch of them, she draws a circle.

At this point, she looks up at Trainor.

She points to the circle on the piece of paper and says that this is some kind of pond or another body of water.

It lies just beyond some trees at the end of a road.

She can't say exactly where this is, but if Trainer can find the location she's drawn, he'll find the murder weapon.

The hammer used to kill Elizabeth Cornish is at the bottom of that water.

Traynor considers what Weber has just told him while looking over her crude drawing.

It's not very specific.

This pond, these trees, this road could literally be anywhere.

Maybe not even in this county, let alone the state.

It feels awfully flimsy, but it's all they have.

Reese has a semi-believable explanation for the fingerprint, and Traynor knows that if they want to convict him, they're going to need him to crack.

He had been so sure that all of this psychic stuff was all a total crock when he first met Weber outside the Blair House apartments.

And now, he's not so sure anymore.

He has to admit that so far, Weber has been spot on.

The scar, the western belt buckle, the name John R., even the time of death.

And so he makes up his mind.

He's going to believe her.

Captain Heater believes her, and that's good enough.

He decides to use Weber's drawing and will try to get a confession out of Rhys.

with what Weber has envisioned.

Traynor soon finds himself sitting at another table, this one in the state police's interrogation room.

Another officer sits next to him, and across from them both, on the other side of the table, sits John Reese.

Reese is as calm as ever.

He sits casually with his arms crossed and an unbothered expression on his face.

In his mind, he's not under investigation.

He's here to help.

Traynor brings up the bedroom window again.

He goes over how Reese said that he often helped with the window when it got stuck, but then reveals that Cornish's sister and daughters told him that it never got stuck.

In response to this, Rhys looks confused and a bit surprised.

He's sticking to his story, though.

The window got stuck and he helped.

Then Traynor mentions that the time of death has been changed.

It's now believed to have happened around 3 a.m.

And that's a time that Rhys does not have an alibi for.

Suddenly, Rhys's crossed arms tense up.

The expression on his face begins to shift.

Next, Trainer brings up the latest piece of psychic evidence, the small pond where the murder weapon was dumped.

He doesn't tell Rhys that the location of the pond has yet to be found, but he doesn't have to.

When he mentions the pond and the hammer, The final shreds of confidence fall from Rhys's face.

It's not even 30 minutes before he cracks.

John Reese confesses to the murder of Elizabeth Cornish

In his videotaped confession, Reese says that he was drunk that night.

In his version of events, the reason he went inside her apartment in the first place was because he saw that her bedroom window had been removed.

He entered the apartment and woke up Cornish.

He tied her up and she violently kicked him in the groin.

It was then that Reese picked up a hammer that he says just so happened to be there on the floor and hit her on the head with it to make her quiet.

He then hit her again and again and again.

He looked down and saw blood everywhere.

He knew she was dead.

He quietly made his way back upstairs to his apartment.

He put the hammer in a garbage bag.

He had a beer, and then went to bed.

The next morning, he went went to work at the Sawn Farm like any other day and dumped the hammer in a muddy pond there.

Trainer goes to visit the sawn farm.

As he drives up the road leading to the facility, he sees a small wooded area off to the side.

He walks through the woods and soon comes out to a clearing.

In the middle of it, a muddy pond.

And at the bottom of that pond, a hammer, exactly like Weber drew on that piece of paper.

On August 26th, just 10 days after Weber was contacted by Peggy Goebel, the neighbor upstairs, John Rees Jr., is placed under arrest and officially charged with murder.

Despite his initial confession, however, Reese pleads not guilty.

In court, His lawyers argue that his videotaped confession was coerced by the police.

They then develop a theory that Cornish was actually murdered by the police's initial suspect, her boyfriend Paul McCarron, who was enraged when he found out that Cornish went on a date with his best friend.

But the judge does not allow this theory to be presented to the jury because it's entirely based on rumor and gossip.

There's something else that the jury doesn't hear either, and it ties in with what Nancy Weber saw when she first visualized Rhys in Cornish's apartment, specifically with how Cornish's hands were bound behind her back with an extension cord.

Prosecutors want to be allowed to put some of Reese's former girlfriends on the stand.

Doing so, they say, will show that this is not the first time that Reese has engaged in bondage, sexual assault, and torture.

But none of these girlfriends ever press charges.

And in the judge's eyes, what happened in the past has no bearing in the case and would only create undue prejudice.

The jury does hear testimony from Reese's boss at the Sawnt Saund Farm, who reveals that Reese confessed to him on the job shortly before his arrest.

And they also hear a conversation between Reese and his fiancée that authorities were given permission to record inside the prosecutor's office.

In that tape, Reese offers up the same confession he gave on videotape to the police.

In October of 1989, A jury finds John Reese Jr.

guilty on 11 counts, including capital murder, felony murder, and two counts of aggravated sexual assault.

He's sentenced to life in prison with parole possible after 30 years, a result that might have been impossible, if not for the assistance of Nancy Weber.

But as novel as it might seem, she's hardly the only psychic who's helped law enforcement crack a tough case.

For more than a century, other psychic investigators such as Rosemarie Kerr, Dorothy Allison, and Snell Snell Newman have been helping law enforcement solve some of their most baffling crimes as well.

And though their methods can sometimes differ, they've yielded real results.

In 1901, Snell Newman saw a murder take place in her mind like she was watching a movie.

What she saw directly led police to a man who had murdered his girlfriend.

In the 1970s, Dorothy Allison saw and smelled things that were present at the site where a missing 14-year-old girl's girl's body was found, leading to the arrest of the killer two years after she disappeared.

And around the time Elizabeth Cornish's murder was being solved, Rosemarie Kerr was working on a case of her very own.

In Kerr's case, physically touching a photo was what jump-started her visions.

Visions that helped catch two men who had killed in cold blood.

The work of psychic detectives often goes unseen.

Many dismiss them as con artists who exploit those who are grieving or looking for answers to unanswerable questions.

And that's certainly fair criticism.

Not every self-proclaimed psychic has yielded results the same way Nancy Weber or Dorothy Allison have.

But in the eyes of law enforcement, psychic detectives can be a legitimate resource.

Even the CIA has released a memo detailing the positive relationship between psychics and law enforcement agencies.

In the memo, 11 police officers who had used a psychic in a case were interviewed.

Out of those 11, 8 said that the psychic had provided them useful information that was otherwise unknown.

3 had said that missing bodies were discovered using details provided by the psychic, and only one officer said that he wouldn't seek help of a psychic again.

So, while it does remain rare for a police department to team up with the psychic, it's an unlikely partnership that's been taking place for well over a century.

One that's just as strange and mysterious as the cases they team up to solve.

Clues that only some of us can truly see before the rest of us believe.

Late Nights with Nexpo is created and hosted by me, Nexpo.

Executive produced by me, Mr.

Bollin, Nick Witters, and Zach Lovitt.

Our head of writing is Evan Allen.

This episode was written by Zeth Lundy.

Copy editing by Luke Baratz.

Audio Editing and Sound Design by Alistair Sherman.

Mixed and mastered by Schultz Media.

Research by Abigail Shumway, Camille Callahan, Evan Beamer, and Stacey Wood.

Fact-checking by Abigail Shumway.

Production Supervision by Jeremy Bone and Cole Ocasio.

Production Coordination by Samantha Collins and Avery Siegel.

Artwork by Jessica Kloxton Kiner and Robin Fane.

Theme song by Ross Bugden.

Thank you all so much for listening to Late Nights with Nexpo.

I love you all, and good night.

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