The Mystery of the Moonlight Murder (5 page)

The man who had been walking by stopped a few feet away and listened attentively.

André continued. “I remember my uncle, Gabriel Dumont, who was so troubled at the treatment of the Métis and Indian peoples. The way the government land surveyors marched in, carving up the land in quarter sections, ignoring the preference for narrow fields that could touch the mighty waters of the North Saskatchewan River.”

Just then a white couple walked out of the land titles office nearby and André noticed them, too. He seemed to quickly take in their possible concerns, too.

“And even the white settler has been lied to by the government. ‘The Last Best West' the government calls it, and yet homesteaders often starve before they can yield a decent crop.”

The white couple nodded at each other in agreement.

Seeing this, André continued. “And my people, the Métis, just like the Cree and other Indian tribes, are pushed farther and farther back to the sidelines to make way for progress. Well, I tell you I am tired of progress and tired of a government in Ottawa that is far away from what we experience here in the West.”

“Here, here!” shouted someone.

John, Elmer, and Summer looked at one another, noticing how his words had quickly affected the other adults. He seemed to be able to get agreement from all kinds of people. Two men walked out of the blacksmith's shop a few businesses down the main street and began to walk toward André, while another couple emerged from the general store. The gathering seemed to happen spontaneously. As others began to approach, John felt it was time for the three of them to make an exit.

He bumped Elmer and caught Summer's eye, then the three slipped away through the adults and made their way in the direction of the police station, still listening to André Dumont's melodious voice, which carried easily through the air. He didn't seem to notice they had left, now that more adults had joined in.

“…and who will take up this challenge if not us? Who will protect our right to hunt where we need to hunt, to build where we need to build? Who will demand more railways be built…?”

With André's speech-making behind them, the three cut through between the blacksmith's shop and the livery stable, and walked along a back pathway behind the main stores. In between two unfamiliar buildings, they leaned against one of them to collect their thoughts.

“Now we know what Sergeant English and Mr. Wright were talking about. This André Dumont sure is trying to stir things up,” John voiced.

“But why would he want to do that?” asked Elmer. John shook his head. “Maybe he just wants to be famous, too. Like his uncle.”

Looking around, John realized they were not in sight of the police station. “We should walk a bit closer to the station. Otherwise we'll miss Father when he comes out.”

They walked along the dry ground, the faint noises of the main street nearby. As they passed between the side walls of two run-down businesses, they noticed a strong smell that made them turn their noses up. Just then, a man swore and there was a loud bang, as if a heavy object had fallen. This was followed by a conversation between two men that was getting louder and angrier. The three youths tucked themselves beside a building to take a look at the commotion without being noticed. John put his index finger to his lips.

“You overcharged me and you know it!” yelled one voice. “I want my money back, you thieving…”

Unfortunately, Elmer, who had been leaning over John and Summer, trying to hear better, fell over and rolled to the ground in full view of two men. As John and Summer scrambled to pull him back out of visual range, the face of one of the angry pair— a short, stocky man—flipped from anger to fear as he realized someone was watching. He averted his eyes quickly from John, Elmer, and Summer and stomped off angrily, muttering, “Forget it…just forget it.”

The other man was quite large and boasted a scruffy, dirty beard. He wore a dark brown bent cowboy hat that looked like it had seen better days. There was a wagon behind him in the shadow of a building, filled with barrels and a canvas tarp pulled over more than half of them. He saw John look at the wagon and quickly pulled the tarp over the remainder of the barrels. Limping strongly and staring menacingly, the man took a few steps toward the three. John noticed a gun on his hip and pushed the others back a step.

“Now hold on, old Cecil's not going to hurt you,” promised the grizzled man, clenching his soiled hands.

He grinned, yet his slate grey eyes were as hard as steel as he spoke.

“I think you three might have made a mistake in coming this way.”

Chapter 6
Guilty Until Proven Innocent

John, Elmer, and Summer backed up rapidly as Cecil advanced. For an overweight man with a limp, he moved surprisingly quickly, covering a great distance in a few hurried steps. His deeply-lined face was difficult to read.

“What's wrong with you kids? Don't you know where you're at?”

“We just want to walk by you, Mister,” said John plainly, trying not to act alarmed.

“I'm afraid I can't let that happen,” he replied, stopping in front of them and looking John in the eye.

John swallowed hard and Elmer and Summer began to retreat slightly behind him.

Just then a familiar, confident-sounding male voice interrupted.

“You can let them pass. Or you can deal with me.” André Dumont walked calmly from behind a nearby building, his eyes fixed squarely on Cecil. He moved a portion of his

black vest aside to reveal his own gun holster, a quiet hint that he meant business.

Cecil's eyes narrowed. “This isn't any of your business, stranger.”

They looked at each other oddly. “On the other hand, I believe I am quite certain about what your business is. Peddling illegal whisky from America out of the back of your wagon. So, the fact that you are even talking with three children disgusts me. Now move aside,” said André sternly.

Cecil acted startled. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said indignantly. “I sell water.”

Dumont laughed with skepticism. “The day the world chooses to buy water will surely be the end of civilization as we know it.”

Cecil gestured behind him. “I was only trying to stop these kids from walking near this hotel. Drinking establishments are no place for children. Some mighty rough characters hang out around here.”

“On that we can agree,” said André. “And you appear to be one of them. But I don't think they are in any danger, as long as they hurry about their business and move quickly. You will move quickly, won't you?” asked André, looking at John, Elmer, and Summer.

“Yes sir,” said John, who didn't need any further hints and began to quickly walk past Cecil, followed closely by Summer

with Elmer at her heels.

“Don't forget what we talked about, young John!” called out André behind them. “This country needs real leadership!”

John nodded, although right now he was more concerned about weaving between the shadows of the two hotels to get back onto the main street of Borden.

John glanced back and saw André and Cecil still staring at each other, but he wasn't about to wait around to see how it ended.

As the three made their way up the sun-lit main street, they each gave a loud sigh of relief.

“Whew! That was too close,” said Elmer, his eyes as large as supper plates. “Do you think that man was going to shoot us, John?”

“I don't think so, Elmer. But I'm glad we didn't have to find out.”

“Thanks to André Dumont,” said Elmer.

“Yes, I suppose so,” said John, who was surprised by the gesture of help from the Métis man.

Summer suddenly pointed. “Look, your father!”

William had just exited the police station and was walking down the street toward the wagon, craning his neck, looking from side to side. He was obviously trying to see where his boys and Summer were.

“Father, over here!” said John waving and walking toward

him from an angle William obviously didn't expect. He wasn't about to tell him about the run-in with the stranger, Cecil, because it might spoil the freedom they currently had in Borden. William looked curious. “Now just where were you three?”

“We were just looking around,” Elmer answered, hoping the panic he felt moments before didn't show through in his voice. John decided at the very least they should tell their father about observing André Dumont talking to others, and how a crowd had gathered around him while he spoke about the troubles of the Métis, the Cree, other Indian tribes and even settlers. When he was finished, his father was looking around.

“Do you still see him?” asked William. John, Elmer, and Summer looked around and shook their heads.

“This Mr. Dumont character sounds like trouble to me,” said William. “Hopefully he won't be in town for very long.”

“Did you see my father?” asked Summer eagerly, changing the topic.

William drew in a deep breath. “Yes, I saw him briefly but I spent most of the time talking with Constable Wood. He's the only officer there right now.”

“Did Constable Wood say what happened?” asked John. William looked downcast as he proceeded to tell Summer and the boys the facts of the case, as he understood them. The officer had spent a few minutes with William in a back room to

be out of earshot of River's Voice's cell. As it turns out, William told Summer, after doing a thorough search of the Schneider property, they had found a necklace that looked like it might be Indian-made because it was a leather string with a series of shells. It was soon proven to belong to River's Voice.

As Summer tried to absorb this damaging information against her father, William had the unfortunate job of letting her know an even greater reason for her father being charged with the crime. Apparently there were also witnesses in Borden who said they heard River's Voice confront and threaten Hans Schneider about the pelts he was selling.

Summer began to shed tears, realizing the police seemed to have decided once and for all. She went and sat down on a nearby store step and Elmer went to sit beside her.

“Father,” asked John, “what did the witnesses say they saw and heard?”

William sighed. “They say they saw River's Voice and Hans trying to pull the pelts from each other's hands. When Hans started to yell and attract attention, River's Voice apparently told Hans threateningly, ‘You'll pay for this,' and then fled.”

William turned to Summer. “I'm sorry, Summer. I wish there was more that I could do right now. If your father is innocent— and I believe he is—the truth will find a way to get out.”

John was disappointed at the way his own father was being so optimistic and trusting that the situation would work itself

out. He always talked liked that, John thought bitterly, even when things didn't work out. John needed an action plan. He wanted to gather facts and think this puzzle through. The odds were against justice for River's Voice. He was a Cree man and discrimination against Indians was all too common. John believed he couldn't just sit around and hope for the best.

However, Summer seemed to appreciate his father's words, John noticed.

“Do you know how my father got his name?” she asked. “How I got my name?” The others shook their heads.

“My father, when he was just a baby, he hardly ever cried. And when he did make sounds, it seemed like they were sounds from music or nature. Everyone knew he would be a wonderful singer someday, so they called him River's Voice in the naming ceremony. But he never chose to sing as he grew up. His heart was always closed to singing. He did not use his gift.

“Then after my mother died of smallpox, when I was just six months old, he quietly started to sing to me. He was so sad. It was the middle of summer and our door was open. His voice grew louder and then all the others heard, too. The elders tell me his voice was so beautiful that everyone in the village stood to listen outside our house. Even though it had been many years since he sang, they said it was just like the river, the sweet sound it makes when it goes around rocks and fallen trees.

“One day, it started to rain but no one wanted to leave, even when storm clouds came. They would not leave the singing! When the four elders met for my naming ceremony, they knew my father's voice brought the mighty thunder. That's why they chose to call me Summer Storm.

“My father told the elders he would never forget his gifts again. He said his gifts were his wife, who cannot return, his daughter and his voice. Can he sing in prison, Mr. D.?”

John and Elmer remained silent after Summer's story, and William turned his head away for a moment. When he faced her again his eyes were damp.

“I think your father meant what he said. I think he will always find a way to sing,” said William gently.

John let his mind drift to the beauty of the Cree naming ceremony. He pictured the rain falling on members of the village as they gathered around the home of River's Voice. It was strange to John how something sad and tragic could exist right beside something so beautiful.

“Your father confirmed for me that your grandparents are not feeling well right now,” said William, changing subjects. “So with all the pressure on them and your extended family on the reservation, I offered your father to let you stay with us for a week. You're practically family anyway, as far as we're concerned. Of course, you'd have to help out with chores, too.”

“I love your chores,” said Summer jumping into the air and

smiling. She was thinking of the animals. “I would love to do this, thank you, Mr. D.” John and Elmer laughed.

William grinned. He was glad this news had cheered her up some.

“Elmer can sleep at Uncle Ed's, with John. You can have Elmer's spot, in the kitchen.

Summer nodded, happy that the Diefenbakers had room for her.

“I have to go to the land titles office for a little while and there's no room in there for everyone. We'll meet up at the general store in about twenty minutes to get Mother's supplies.”

And with that, William left for the land titles office, while John took a good long look at the police station, not 50 feet away from them, once his father was out of sight.

“Let's go,” he said, with Elmer and Summer in tow.

“Where?” asked Elmer.

“To the police station. I want to see Summer's father,” answered John.

Elmer scrunched his forehead. “Father said we weren't allowed to go to the jail.”

“No, he didn't. He said he didn't want Summer in the jailhouse because it wasn't a place for young ladies. He didn't say anything about us and I've got some questions for River's Voice.”

Elmer considered John's technicality and looked impressed. “But I don't think Constable Wood will let us in, either,” said Elmer.

“Actually, not us. Just me. But I need you, Elmer, to make this possible.”

***

Constable Wood surveyed the cramped police office that he was now in charge of for three whole days. His boss, Sergeant English, was in Regina on official police business. He straightened some papers and looked around the room. To his right, he glanced up at his diploma from the Regina Police Academy. It inspired him to sit more smartly in his chair.

Almost reluctantly, he took a glance at his only prisoner in the corner, River's Voice, who solemnly returned his stare before speaking quietly and politely in his heavy, Cree accent. “Constable, my people have always had respect for the Royal North West Mounted Police. Ever since the red coats showed up on the prairies, we knew they came to bring rules and order. I was only a young boy then. But now, what should we think? This is a mistake.”

Constable Wood's face didn't change, but inside he felt unsettled. How come he was feeling this way? Yes, his prisoner seemed to be a calm and polite sort of person. Yet, they had

more evidence than they needed to lay a charge of murder against River's Voice. There was a bracelet found at the scene that he admitted belonged to him and even witnesses who say they heard him make threatening remarks when he argued with Hans Schneider. The man had a motive for the crime, Constable Wood told himself again. It doesn't matter what William Diefenbaker says.

“Just keep quiet in there,” the constable said evenly. “You'll get a trial in Regina soon enough.”

“Yes, you told me. A trial,” repeated River's Voice calmly. “I think that really means I will never get to see my family again. I think that's what a trial means for me.”

Constable Wood ignored the comment and returned to his paperwork. He was in charge now and he wasn't about to get distracted by anything. Just then he thought he heard the distant sound of his name.