Recovering stolen goods and identifying the thief is the single most concretely practical office in the Goetia, and it is not confined to this entry. Purson discovers hidden things and treasure. Seere discovers thefts. Others reveal secrets and uncover hidden dealings. Between them these entries describe a service that was in constant demand.
The historical background is well documented. In early modern England, property crime was common, policing was effectively non-existent outside the parish, and recovery depended on identifying the culprit locally. Cunning folk, village practitioners who told fortunes, found lost objects, healed livestock and named thieves, were a fixture, and thief-detection was among their commonest jobs. The church courts and the assizes record both the practice and the periodic attempts to suppress it.
A grimoire promising the same service is therefore not exotic. It is the learned, expensive, Latin-derived version of something available in most villages from someone charging a great deal less. The difference is one of register and of clientele, not of function.
This is the argument for reading the Goetia as social history rather than only as demonology. Its offers can be checked against what people actually wanted and actually paid for, and they match closely. The book is unusual in its cosmology and entirely ordinary in its economics.
It also explains the catalogue's longevity. A list of spirits who supply learning, money, advancement, love and justice speaks to durable wants. The theology around it dated quickly. The wants did not.