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Occult Detectives are Dispirited

Looking into some pulp tropes in real life, I've done a bit of research recently into Occult Detectives.

Unfortunately, I haven't found any "real" occult detectives that investigate haunted houses, evil cults, or things man was not meant to know.

I have, however, uncovered some occult detectives that royally mucked things up.

In one case, a "detective" used his "occult" powers to accuse an innocent man of wrongdoing, according to newspaper reports in 1907.

Sam Flint persuaded a police judge to issue a warrant for the arrest of Will C. Bradford based on nothing more than a vision he had while "in a trance". He accused Bradford of being wanted for a murder committed in South Carolina

"Flint, who on many occasions has offered his services to the local department as a trance medium and human bloodhound, said there was a mark on the alleged murderer's shoulder which he had seen in his dreams," according to the Times. "By some occult reasoning he had hit upon the criminal who had committed the murder."

The trouble was that Bradford had never even been to South Carolina. At the station following his arrest in the dead of night, Flint insisted on looking at Bradford's shoulder for the tell-tale mark he had foretold. Of course there was no mark and Bradford was released.

"Flint was requested by the police to refrain from going into further trances."

And then there is the case of Philip Schumacher, bank embezzler, who escaped justice thanks to a "Professor" of hypnotism and his seances.

Schumacher was a teller at the Teutonia Bank in Louisiana in 1901. He was engaged in some financial legerdemain involving kiting checks and inter-bank transfers of cash when a surprise bank inspection loomed before him.

Thinking quickly, if not well, he arranged to be alone in the bank and staged a quick fake robbery. He even went so far as to shoot himself in the leg. He hoped to cover his shortage in his accounts by blaming the phantom robbers.

Nobody bought it. But he stuck to his story.

The bank's cashier, W. W. Wiess, was obsessed with finding the missing $18,000 in cash. Schumacher wasn't talking.

Weiss was convinced that a young woman friend of Weiss had some of the stolen lucre.

So Weiss obtained the services of a vaudeville hypnotist, Professor Lee, who had recently performed at the Tulane Theater, to conduct a spirit investigation. A seance was conducted in Weiss' home and the "Professor's" medium, after a prolonged bit of hocus-pocus, indicated the fireplace.

The "Professor" indicated that the money could be found hidden in the fireplace in the girlfriend's room at her boarding house.

Two policemen, who to their credit didn't buy the professor's act for a minute, had been told to do whatever the bank authorities wanted.

In the dark of night, the two officers, Weiss, and the "Professor" raided the boarding house where Schumacher's squeeze was staying and proceeded to search her room, particularly the fireplace.

"And then the search began." reports the Times Democrat. "Before it was through with the four men were covered with soot that had not been disturbed for decades. The entire chimney place was torn out, but no money was found.

"Disappointed and crestfallen, four silent figures slunk from the premises, leaving a blackened trail

As they were leaving the "Professor" "had a fit" and then declared that the loot had been moved from its hiding place in the fireplace to some other location after the seance but before the quartet could follow up.

So naturally Weiss agreed to a second seance the following evening.

"The business of the evening was not delayed for long, and the two detectives were stationed within hailing distance. The semi-circle of believers was formed about the subject, and the 'professor' beat the air in the wildest manner. Once more the subject sank into a deep sleep, and the latest thing in detective work was soon underway."

The seance revealed that the money was buried in the back yard of the boarding house. Once again the quartet raced by horse-drawn cab on their psychic treasure hunt. This time, they had to tear up the bricks that paved over the house's back yard. With no better result.

"Mrs. Braume's yard was a sight, while the mud-bespattered  clothing of the two detectives, the cashier and the 'professor' presented a none too pretty picture. Four disappointed and crestfallen figures crept out of the premises and were watched by as many amused inmates of the Braume household."

Needless to say, Weiss came in for some ribbing in the local press. So much so that he suffered a mental breakdown.

As the St. Louis Post Dispatch had it "The tale of the tests under the cloak of the law is almost incredible, taking one back to the dark ages, when magicians throve and witches held their sway. Cashier Weiss, when the police had failed in their efforts to locate the missing money, sought a mysterious professor, to invoke assistance in prosecuting the hunt for the 'long green.'

When the case came to court, it turned out that Weiss was the only witness who could testify to the amount of money that was missing and the amount that Schumacher had scattered across the bank floor. But he was unavailable.

"Spirits Undermined Wiess' Constitution" read one headline. "Cashier of Teutonia Bank Driven to Nervous Prostration."

Weiss had left town, hounded by wags who continually asked "Wouldn't that hypnotize you?"

The jury was ordered to declare Schumacher innocent of the bank embezzlement. All further charges were dropped.

I might note that the police did not have any search warrant and apparently left the landlord to repair the fireplace and back yard they had destroyed.

The irony is that Schumacher was so clearly guilty that the bonding company immediately agreed to pay the bank $50,000. This was $15,000 more than Schumacher probably stole all together. Despite Weiss' failure to recover any of the stolen loot, the bank actually made a profit on the "robbery".

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