Hi, crime junkies. I'm Ashley Flowers and I'm Britt and today's story comes to us from

literally halfway across the world from all the way in New Zealand. And I know I said

it back when we covered a case from Iceland, but it just completely blows my mind. Every

time we get requests from people who live all over the world, realizing that our voices

make it so far from where we live here in Indiana. I think it's amazing. Yeah, it's by far

one of the coolest things ever. And at least for me, it never ceases to amaze me. I know.

And one of my favorite things that you guys do that I love is when you take a picture

of where you're listening from and tag us. It is especially during this never ending pandemic.

I was like, it feels like traveling. Yes. It feels like traveling without being actually

able to go anywhere. Yeah. So show us where you're listening this week. And I will tell

you about a crime that not only shakes a rural New Zealand community, but eventually winds

up changing the whole country's faith in their own law enforcement system. This is the

story of Harvey and Jeanette Crou.

In 1970, the town of Pukakawa on New Zealand's North Island, this is about an hour south

of Auckland, is a small, easy going farming community. The population here is pretty small.

Think like the kind of town where everybody knows everybody else, everybody's kind of

up in each other's business. So like the town that we grew up in. Yeah. So, okay.

In the morning of Monday, June 22nd, this is 1970 during the winter because again, we're

here in Indiana, but seasons are flipped in the southern hemisphere. Right. A man in Pukakawa

named Leonard Demler gets a phone call. Now, it's important to note that Leonard lives

alone because he's recently become a widower after his wife may passed away from a brain

tumor a few months before. But he has a little family around. His daughter, Jeanette Crou, lives

...