The Mystery of the Moonlight Murder

by Roderick Benns

  “You need to get a better angle with the shovel…like this,” he said. The high puff of hair on his father’s head shook back and forth when he pushed the shovel into the dirt.

  John nodded, pretending to need the lesson when all he needed was his father not to be looking at him. He decided to ask another question while William was still beside him. “Why do Indians live on reservations?”

  “Now why do you ask that, son?” his father said, shoveling another weed onto a pile John had already started.

  John shrugged slightly. “I mean I remember some of this from history but I still don’t understand it completely. Why can’t they just live however they want to live?”

  William gave a grunt of understanding. “Good question, and there are many answers. Let’s put one of the big answers this way.”

  “Before the West started to attract more Europeans, there weren’t many people here, other than the Indians. So you should think of the Indians as the first nation. There were also fur traders who made their living along the rivers and lakes. But the people from eastern Canada, Ontario, Quebec, and the Maritime provinces, believed in owning land. So did the people who came here from Europe, which is the majority of us. For them, it didn’t make sense not to have boundaries and rules set up.”

  John understood. “So the Indian idea of sharing land was something we didn’t really understand. We still don’t get it.” William nodded.

  “So you mean people like us,” John stated.

  “Yes, people like us, son. It’s difficult to admit but in some ways it’s true. It’s a clash of cultures, John. Not to mention the buffalo were overhunted and almost became extinct. The government came in and offered food, shelter, and training in farming. It was trying to help in its own way, but the government also wanted access to these prairies for the newcomers,” said William, waving his hand at the golden wheat.

  John took the shovel back from his father. “I think I understand why the Cree and other Indian tribes are disappointed. They have to live on reservations and don’t have the freedom to move around wherever they want,” said John. “But what about the Métis? Why are so many Métis angry, like Mr. Dumont? They’re not all stuck on reservations.”

  “I can’t speak for this Dumont fellow, John. But the traditional Métis buffalo hunts were affected once the buffalo was driven away and overhunted. They’re still not free to move around if the government and then the settlers are claiming to own the land they used to hunt on.”

  “It was the Americans who overhunted the buffalo, right?” John asked.

  “They weren’t the only ones overhunting. But yes, since their West was settled first there were a lot of Americans involved in the hunt,” said William, “and buffalo have no borders.”

  “They would cross back and forth between Canada and the U.S. all the time. The Métis loved to be a part of this lifestyle,

  too, and then all of a sudden it was gone. And neither the Indians nor the Métis were anxious to be absorbed by a government that didn’t understand the way they wanted to live,” said William.

  “It doesn’t sound like anyone is really happy,” noted John. His father laughed. “It sure seems that way. When you think about it, white settlers were often ignored by the government, too. The government’s main interest was to simply get the people out here farming. That’s all they’ve cared about, as far as the West goes. How can we get them here and get the country growing?”

  “So maybe Mr. Dumont is right, then,” John stated. He was feeling more heated about the issues the West had been dealing with. “The Métis are driven away from their lifestyle by settlers, the Indians are forced to live on reservations and take help from the government because their lifestyle is taken away, and maybe they get blamed for doing things they didn’t even do, like River’s Voice and…”

  “John…” began his father.

  “…and we, we don’t even get fair prices for our wheat each year!” said John, his voice rising. He was still on a roll.

  “Sergeant English said Mr. Dumont is whipping up emotions in people, but that’s because they have a right to feel the way they do. We need to be emotional about these things, don’t we, Father?”

  William pulled his rag from his pocket and wiped his face again. He stared at his eldest son, with a mixture of admiration and caution.

  “I guess that all depends on what we do with our emotions, doesn’t it, son?”

  With that William ambled into the homestead and left John alone with his shovel and his swirling thoughts. Now he could no longer simply concentrate on the dilemma of River’s Voice, like he had wanted to do. Instead, he began to consider the condition of all of his neighbours’ lives—whether Indian, Métis or settlers—who felt like they didn’t have a say. It was as if all the underdogs of the Canadian West seemed to haunt John and weigh heavily on his mind. He felt like an outsider within his own country.

  He aimed his shovel at another large, invading weed and severed it at the root.

  ***

  Returning over the great bridge that spanned the North Saskatchewan River didn’t seem quite as upsetting this time to Elmer and Summer. But as the wagon creaked along toward home on the well-worn road, there were new fears to replace it. Elmer and Summer were uneasy about Earl’s comments, and they also wondered about André’s rally on the Petrenko farm

  and what that would mean. This added a strange twist to a visit to Langham that was only supposed to have been about butter. They wanted to get back home to the Diefenbaker homestead to let John know as soon as possible.

  They felt the wagon turn to travel north of Borden on a familiar-feeling trail and could see the town’s recognizable buildings in the distance to the west. The wagon path that headed north of Borden and back toward the homestead was a creaky, noisy ride. The smaller path was not nearly as well-worn as the one that connected the towns together. As they passed by a familiar shack, long ago abandoned by a settler who never made it, Ed thought he heard a dull thump of some kind. “Did either of you stomp?” Ed asked.

  “No, not us,” said Elmer, who was seated right behind his uncle in the back row of the front of the wagon. Summer sat beside him and shook her head.

  “Maybe a barrel fell over,” said Elmer. “I’ll look.” Elmer twisted around and peered into the darkened back of the wagon, which was covered by the canopy. He moved aside one flap and peered in, but all he could see were barrels, and all of them were standing.

  “Everything’s fine, Uncle Ed.”

  Ed nodded, his face furrowed, making a mental note to check the condition of the wheels back at the homestead.

  ***

  He felt cramped inside the back of the wagon, but the barrels were the perfect cover for him. He would jump off once he felt he was far enough north of Borden. It was time for a payback as soon as he could pin down his target. If he really thought that by staying on the move he could avoid his fate, he was sorely mistaken.

  Chapter 14

  ‘We Will Take Back the West’

  Constable Wood hung up the telephone gingerly, afraid to break it. Like many others, he was still in awe of the technology.

  “You’re not going to believe this, Sergeant, but they know each other.”

  “Tell me everything,” said Sergeant English.

  After hearing the young constable’s full report, Sergeant English smoothed his thick brown moustache, deep in thought. So much had just changed. The best way to handle the situation was to let events unfold naturally. Then, hopefully, they could clean up this town once and for all.

  ***

  “He said what?” asked John.

  Elmer and Summer were now back at the homestead and the trio of youngsters had more to talk about than they would have imagined. Elmer repeated exactly what they heard, from Earl’s

  strange comments to André’s plans for the following night.

  “Mr. Wright said ‘I liked Hans, but, as I said, he surprised me. But enough about that. What do you need fr
om me if I agree to this?’”

  “That’s exactly what he said?” asked John, concerned. Elmer nodded. John looked paler than usual.

  “Then Mr. Dumont replied ‘Just show up for now. Just be there, lend your support, and I won’t ask much more of you, other than the odd message delivered here and there.’”

  John replayed this over and over in his mind, looking for alternative explanations. But no other explanation came to him. Somehow Earl T. Wright was surprised by Hans being out in the field. That had to be what the Rawleigh’s man meant, figured John. Now Mr. Wright was a major suspect in the murder of Hans Schneider. But what was André Dumont’s involvement in all of this?

  “Maybe that’s why Mr. Wright was acting so weird when we saw him that day?” asked Elmer. “Maybe the gun he used was under the blanket!”

  “Perhaps,” said John. “A murder weapon would be helpful if the police had that.”

  “And then he said he should stop in and see Uncle Ed in case he needed something for his arm…but he never showed up!” Elmer summarized.

  “That’s right,” said John. “And how likely is it that Mr. Wright

  would forget a potential sale?” John scratched his tight, wavy hair as he thought more.

  It was a strange feeling for Summer. On the one hand she felt a ray of hope for her father and his innocence, but on the other hand she felt distressed that it could be a man everyone liked. “Wait a minute!” said John. “There’s a major rally…tomorrow night at the Petrenko’s. And Mr. Wright was invited?” John confirmed with his brother.

  Elmer nodded, wide-eyed. “That’s what Matthew Carver said.”

  “Then we need to be there,” said John simply. “Maybe we can search Mr. Wright’s wagon. At the same time, we can see how big this rally gets, because if more than forty or fifty people show up, maybe this area will have another rebellion on its hands, too!”

  John figured it was one thing to stand on a wagon and talk passionately to people who were walking by. But holding a big rally was a different kind of message. André Dumont really meant what he said—he was looking to create upheaval. But how was he involved with Earl, who at this point, seemed their best suspect in the murder of Hans Schneider? And what did André mean by delivering a message here and there?

  Elmer’s eyes were huge with worry and bewilderment. “But how are we going to go? And, how come no one around here has heard of it?” pressed Elmer. “No one’s mentioned anything

  to Father, Mother or Uncle Ed, as far as I know.” John grabbed Elmer by the arm in realization.

  “That’s just it! They do know!” he said.

  “Know what?” said Elmer, retrieving his arm.

  “The neighbours, they do know about the rally! Mr. Devonshire was just here this morning and I think he almost told us, but he stopped himself,” John explained. “Why?” asked Summer.

  “Because he knows Mother, Father and Uncle Ed would never condone it. They’re not exactly the rebellion types, being school teachers, and with Father knowing Sergeant English pretty well…,” John continued.

  “…then everyone has kept this to themselves!” finished Elmer.

  “Yes, and then you add to this the fact that we’ve been spared the worst of all the problems facing everyone lately, like the fire and the robberies. And we’re not exactly the most popular people to recruit for a revolt,” said John.

  “Summer, what do you think?” prompted John, noticing that she was deep in thought.

  “I know something else, I think,” she said, alarm in her voice. “Remember when Mr. Dumont met with Chief Five Hawks? He shook his hand, you said.”

  “Of course!” exclaimed John, knowing where she was going. “When he saved me at the river, he said something about

  there being ‘change’ in the air! You’re right, Summer…he’s bringing Chief Five Hawks himself to this rally so he can bring the Cree onside!”

  “Yes!” agreed Elmer.

  “But if the Cree are coming, we have to assume others will be represented there, too,” John continued. “The Métis, since Dumont is Métis, and maybe other Indian tribes, too. Not to mention all the homesteaders he’s convinced to come.”

  “But if most people know about this, wouldn’t the police?” asked Elmer.

  “You’d think so…but they might have their own reasons for not getting involved right now,” said John. “Maybe they’ll try to stop it before it even begins. Or, maybe not as many people will show up as Mr. Dumont wants.”

  “This could be the biggest thing that’s ever happened here,” said Elmer in awe.

  “You’re right, Elmer,” said John seriously. “And tomorrow night, somehow, we need to be there. This might be our last chance to help Summer’s father.”

  ***

  The next day unfolded slowly. John, Elmer, and Summer worked hard on the homestead, often helping William and Ed with work outside. Sometimes she joined Mary in the kitchen with food preparation.

  All of them wondered if somehow one of the adults would learn of the rally. Perhaps a neighbour would come by with news of it, or the Royal North West Mounted Police would burst in with news. But no one came. However, near the day’s end, the adults seemed to notice an above average number of wagons going by off in the distance. John’s casual mention of hearing some adults in Borden talking about a barn dance tonight at a farm a few miles north of the homestead seemed to be enough to cast away any suspicions.

  As evening fell, Summer received permission to sleep in the barn. She told the Diefenbakers she was worried that her horse was not feeling well, and she wanted to be sure Prairie Dancer was alright. William and Mary gave her permission, as long as she slept on the second floor in the hayloft, to be safe from roaming predators, such as the coyotes.

  “If Summer’s sleeping in the hayloft tonight then Elmer can have the kitchen back. It will give Ed more room,” said Mary. Elmer looked at John with wide eyes and John returned the stare back as if to say, “Say something.”

  “Um, that’s okay, Mother. If it’s all the same to you and Father, I’d like to stay at Uncle Ed’s, with John,” Elmer said. “Summer will likely be back inside the house tomorrow night and then I’d just have to keep changing where I’m sleeping.”

  Mary stared at her youngest for a moment and then let it go. “Suit yourself, boy.”

  Farm life tended to make for an early bedtime, and on a day when everyone had worked so hard, John hoped that his uncle would choose one of his earlier bedtimes. Ed didn’t disappoint, falling asleep even earlier than they had anticipated. John and Elmer waited for that moment then gingerly stepped outside into the darkened summer evening. Elmer tripped over one of Ed’s large boots and almost knocked John over, but they somehow managed to exit without being stopped. They stole toward the barn across the open field where Summer, as planned, had Prairie Dancer, Skipper and Blue ready to ride.

  At the barn no one spoke, not even Elmer. Less than five minutes had passed as they led the three horses out of the barn. As they turned around the corner, all three of them gasped. “And just where in blazes do you three think you’re going?” The sight of Ed Diefenbaker, now awake, standing in the semi-darkness was almost enough to make John, Elmer, and Summer jump out of their skins. John gulped, knowing that as the eldest he was the one being counted on for answers. John glanced nervously at the main homestead across the field, half expecting his mother to come storming out, too, which he decided would be even worse. However, the homestead was silent as John quickly spoke, spilling everything to his uncle at breakneck speed, other than the fact they strongly suspected Earl of murder. Instead, John focused on the political rally, outlining each time they had met Dumont and what they had talked

  about. He also told his uncle how he, Elmer, and Summer believe that the rally tonight might spark something larger.

  His uncle listened with interest. When John was finished he turned around and looked up at the sky, as if to think without all the distractions. Only the stars and
a waning moon stared back at him.

  “Wait here,” he said simply. Then Ed turned and started to walk towards the main homestead.

  “Uncle…Ed?” said John behind him. But his uncle paid no heed to John’s confusion.

  “Great!” said John sarcastically. “Now he’s going to tell Father and Mother. We’ll never get to go!”

  Elmer and Summer looked dejected. A few nervous minutes passed while John, Elmer, and Summer patted their horses and waited impatiently.

  In a few minutes, Ed returned, with William by his side.

  The children were certain that they were in deep trouble. “You know, your father and I both know Sergeant English pretty well,” said Ed, as he walked toward them. “It’s hard for us to believe he wouldn’t be on to this. He’s probably shutting it down right now.”

  “But…” began John nervously.

  “And it still doesn’t explain to me why you three were about to attend this so-called rally. You’re just kids,” William interrupted before John could explain.

  John felt deflated. Part of him hated still being a kid. Sometimes he got tired of defending himself just because of his age. “I know it sounds strange, Father, but I think Mr. Dumont really likes me. He always wants to talk politics with me and I just have this feeling that I should be there because it might lead to new information. Something important is going to happen. It’s hard to explain.” John looked down at the ground.

  “Like I said, you’re kids,” said William. “You’re going to need adult supervision.”

  John looked up again at his father and uncle, his eyes wide. “You mean…”

  “Are you going to get these horses hitched up to the wagon or do we have to ride these things bareback?” asked William. “Now let’s go.”

  “Yes sir!” said John and Elmer with glee in their voices while Summer beamed. “Father?” asked Elmer. “Yes?”

  “Is Mother coming?”

  “What do you think, Elmer?”

  “I think she’s not coming.”

  “Good guess. Let’s just say I’m probably not the most popular man in the world with your mother right now, taking children to a late-night political rally. In fact, if you can move any faster, it would probably be a good thing for all of us.”