It all started when the farmhouse door opened and the only sound hurt was the desperate crying of a baby left alone.

This unsettling discovery would be the beginning of a case so disturbing and mysterious that it would haunt an entire country for decades.

As always, fewer discretion is biased. On a cold June morning in 1970, Leonard Demler got behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine.

The misty rolling green hills of Pukikawa in New Zealand surrounded him as he sat in his vehicle

for a few moments to let it warm up.

He wasn't going far, just up the road to the next driveway, but he was apprehensive about

what he was asked to do when he got there.

Leonard was a seasoned farmer with a type of weathered, callous hands that could only be earned

to a life of hard labor, and he had a rough, stoic demeanor

to match them, but the uncertainty of the next moments weighed on him.

Just a day earlier, he spoke with a neighbor who was concerned about the couple who lived

next door to Leonard, which just so happened to me his daughter, Jeanette Crewe, and her husband,

Harvey Crew.

It had been at least five days since anyone had seen or heard from them, which was certainly

odd, especially in a small farming town. Despite their closeness and distance, though, Leonard wasn't so

eager to visit Jeanette in the first place, let alone show up unannounced. It wasn't always

like that, but it suffices to say that a recent family dispute over partial ownership of Leonard's

farmland had driven a wedge between the father and daughter.

Still, he could sense something wasn't quite right as his many phone calls to the house in previous days had gone unanswered.

After delaying the inevitable long enough, Leonard put his truck in gear, drove to the end of his

driveway, and turned left onto Highway 22.

Within a few minutes, he was pulling up just outside the farmhouse on the crew property,

...