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Canada, 9 July 1928. It was a summer night in Edmonton, Alberta. The sky was still aglow with a bright and tender light as it usually is in those remote areas of the Arctic. Dr. Heaslip was about to retire to bed after a busy day. Suddenly, his phone rang loud and clear. "A terrible tragedy has occurred in the Booher farm! Please rush!" said the frantic voice on the other end.

On reaching the ranch, an incredible sight met his eyes. Without further delay, the doctor informed the police headquarters 80 miles away. It was not before long that Inspector Longacre, Detective Leslie and Constable Olson arrived. They were received by Henry Booher, the owner of the farm, his younger son Veron Booher, Charles Stevenson, a neighbour, and Dr. Heaslip.

The middle-aged farmer, still in a state of shock and disbelief, led the group into the house. In the kitchen lay his wife, Rose Booher, dead from three bullets through the back of her neck. In the next room, sprawled on the floor, was the lifeless body of his elder son, Fred. He, too, had been shot. The third victim was Gabriel Cromby, a hired employee. Two bullets, one in the head and the other in the chest, had killed him. He lay dead in an outhouse nearby.

Young man, when did you first discover the crime?" asked one of the officers looking at Veron Booher. "I was working in the fields when I heard the gun shots. It must have been around 8 at night. On rushing into the house, I discovered to my utter dismay the tragedy that had occurred to the family", he replied rather nervously. "Didn't you also hear the gun shots, Mr. Henry? Tell us, is anything missing from the house?" put in Inspector Longacre, turning to the farm owner. "O God! I wish I had heard them! Our farm is a large one, as you can see. I was working right on the far end and the sound did not reach me. I don't think anything has been stolen. My wife had a diamond ring and it's still shining on her finger", answered Henry Booher. His eyes were moist.

We've another helping hand in our farm. His name is Rosyk. He is missing. We can't find him anywhere. Could it be that he's the culprit?" wondered Veron intently looking at his father. So the small party began to search the ranch. Suddenly, in one of the barns, they found the missing man, Rosyk. Alas, he too was dead from two bullet injuries. He was the fourth victim. "Do you have any idea who could be responsible for these killings?" asked Detective Leslie.

"As far as I know, we've no enemies. My wife was an extremely amiable person. She was liked by the whole neighbourhood", replied Henry Booher in a choked voice.

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A thorough search was organised all over the countryside. Alas, the gun remained untraceable, and so were any clues. Not one, but four ghastly murders! They all seemed as mysterious and motiveless.

The officers and the detectives were in a real fix. As conventional methods failed, police chief Mike Gier decided to try out unconventional ones. He sent for a man about whom he had recently heard. The man had extraordinary abilities.

The next day a stranger walked into the police station. He was a small unassuming man, with a hat on his crop of long hair. An umbrella in his hand went tapping on the floor as he moved about. He was Dr. Maximilian Langsner from Vienna. He had come to Canada to study the minds of the Eskimos who, according to him, had unusual intuitive abilities. They could sense weather changes and dangers long before their actual occurrence. He had spent some time in India, too, and had a doctorate from the University of Calcutta. He was much impressed by the progress made by the Indians in the field of intuition and control of the mind.

Could Dr. Langsner really help in solving this mysterious series of murders? He was thoroughly briefed before the inquiry and all the witnesses were examined one after another. The courtroom was packed to capacity. The two surviving members of the Booher family and their neighbour, Charles Stevenson, were also present.

"Mr. Stevenson, do you by any chance possess a gun?" asked the lawyer. "I had one, but it was stolen. It was a .303 gun, the same calibre as the one with which the crime was committed", he replied in a jittery manner. "Tell us, when did the gun disappear from your house?"

"Sunday last, while I was away in the church. I had seen it before I left home", he replied. Both Henry and Veron Booher, when questioned, said that they knew nothing about the gun as they, too, were in the church on the same day and at the same time.

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Who could be the mad killer? Was it Henry Booher, Veron Booher? Charles Stevenson? Or somebody else? What would have been his or her motive?

Mike Gier, the police chief, looked at old Dr. Maximilian Langsner after they returned from the court. He had a smile on his face. "Sir, your expression tells me that you already know something. Wouldn't you like to reveal it"

"Yes, it's the name of the killer. He is Veron Booher!" he said in a composed tone. Everyone present was flabbergasted! How could a young boy, the favourite of his mother, commit such a crime? And were there any proofs?

The doctor smiled again before continuing, "There are no proofs! But I stand by my statement. While Veron Booher was giving testimony in the court, I could sense what was going on in his mind and follow his train of thoughts. He is terribly shaken and worried that something might give him up and prove his guilt".

"Is it the missing gun?" put in the Detective. "Do you know by any chance where it is?" "Yes, I do", replied the old man. "While Charles Stevenson was informing the court of his stolen gun, Veron began to think of the weapon. I could sense and see where he had hidden it". "Please do tell us", requested Inspector Longacre.

Dr. Langsner closed his eyes. Then he said slowly and in a measured tone: "The gun is hidden under a mound of grass at the back of the Booher house. It is in the west, because now I can just see the setting sun". The gun was soon discovered and was sent for examination of the fingerprints on it.

Veron Booher was imprisoned in Edmonton - not as an accused, but as a prime witness in the case and for his own protection. It appeared that he was indeed guilty, but there were no conclusive evidences against him to prove in a court of law. Veron Booher, Henry Booher and Charles Stevenson were all in the church on Sunday when the gun was stolen from Stevenson's house. So who stole the gun?

Dr. Langsner requested for a meeting with Veron. He was permitted and he sat on a chair in front of his cell. They were face to face but spoke no word. The young man got irritated and turned his back. But the old man was unperturbed and he just silently stared at him for sixty long minutes. Then he bade him goodbye but got no response.

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“Veron Booher is indeed guilty. There's no doubt about it", confirmed the doctor. "First he killed his mother because he had come to hate her for reasons I don't know now. Then one after another, he eliminated all possible eye witnesses. His own brother and the two hired farm hands".

"You may be absolutely right, Dr. Langsner", said chief Mike Gier. "But how do we prove it?" "“While Stevenson was in the church that Sunday, Veron stole his gu", continued the little old man with a sigh. “In fact, Veron was also in the church. But he sneaked out of the church and then returned and took his seat again. Only one woman, with small round eyes and a bonnet on her head, had observed his movements".

All looked up in admiration at Dr. Maximilian Langsner. How could he know all these details when he was not present? He explained that it was very simple. He just followed the trend of thoughts in Veron when he sat before him in the cell. The police chief asked his deputy to find the woman the doctor had described.

Detective Leslie soon returned to the headquarters with Erma Higgins. She was a very alert and curious little lady. She had indeed observed Veron leave the church and then return that Sunday morning. The culprit was brought to their presence. As instructed, Erma Higgins began, "Veron! I saw you leave the church and then return, the day Charles Stevenson's gun was stolen! Isn't that right?"

The young man looked intently at Erma Higgins and all the others sitting before him. There was absolute silence! Only the rhythmic ticking of the clock was audible in the room.Suddenly going up to the police chief, and holding his hands, Veron confessed to his guilt and began to sob. It was a sad story. He had lately come to hate his mother because she did not approve of the girl that he loved dearly. What a catastrophe followed the simple discord between mother and son! A year later, Veron Booher was hanged before the tearful eyes of his father.

Good old Dr. Maximilian Langsner, who had the unique gift of reading the thoughts of other people, unravelled puzzling mysteries and helped the police solve many such stubborn cases. Never did he boast of his extraordinary power. He lived very simply and modestly till the last day of his life.