The Mystery of the Moonlight Murder Read Online Free

straight to the police station to report the tragedy.
    Now two days later, it was time to bury Hans Schneider on his farm, in a hole that neighbours, including William, had earlier helped dig. Gertrude Schneider was now a widow, with no children to help her.
    â€œWho do you think did it, Father?” asked John. “Who would do such a thing to Mr. Schneider?”
    William shook his head and watched the sun inch higher in its daily pact with the sky.
    â€œI don’t know, son. If I knew, I would have told Sergeant English yesterday. It doesn’t make any sense to me,” he added. “But you don’t think it was Summer’s father, right?” John pressed.
    â€œOf course not. That doesn’t make any sense either,” his father answered quickly, reaching over to straighten a corner of the wood pile.
    John was happy to hear that his father still believed in the innocence of River’s Voice. It was a special day whenever he visited and brought Summer with him, who was eleven, just a year younger than John. It felt like they had grown up together, even though it had only been about three years. Summer would often help John do his chores. This provided an endless source of fascination for her, seeing what was involved in feeding pigs, cows, and chickens. Although her family had done some farming on the reservation where she lived, it had not been very successful. Instead, her father did a great deal of trapping in neighbouring woods in order to provide for them.
    â€œWhat do you think River’s Voice and Mr. Schneider were arguing about, Father?” asked John.
    â€œThat’s not for us to worry about, John. It’s not our concern.” John wanted to say maybe it was because Mr. Schneider just didn’t like Indians, but he kept his mouth quiet. But the fact was
    John had overheard things. Like, when Mr. Schneider was complaining about other people to Uncle Ed or his father, especially about the Plains Cree Indians who lived in the area. He noticed his father would deflect any comments and just try to stick with topics that they could agree on. On the other hand, Mr. Schneider had been such a good neighbour to the Diefenbakers— helping them with the farm, being there if they needed anything. To John, it was strange that Mr. Schneider, an immigrant himself from Germany, had not been more tolerant of peoples’ differences.
    William took another glance at the work his boys were doing and then began to walk back to the house.
    â€œYou boys finish your chores and then go get cleaned up. The service is at eleven this morning.”
    ***
    The short journey to the Schneider house was a silent affair in the Diefenbaker Schooner. That’s how everyone referred to their carriage. William and Ed’s brother Henry, a mechanic now living in Waukegan, Illinois, had modified their wagon by adding a canvas roof and two coal heaters inside. Then he had installed stovepipes rising several inches above the roof of the wagons. Winters were especially dangerous on the prairies. After John and his Uncle Ed nearly froze to death in a blizzard
    last winter, the family didn’t want to take any chances. Of course, it’s not as if the heaters needed to be on right now. William and Mary, dressed in their only church clothes, were already starting to break out into a sweat as the hot morning sun, so strong in August, beat down. It was only ten o’clock and the temperature was already eighty degrees Fahrenheit. They all stared straight ahead, lost in the circumstances that had brought them to their neighbour’s home.
    â€œThere’s a storm brewing,” Mary stated, breaking the silence. Pointing to the western horizon she added, “It’ll hit tomorrow.” “That works out well. I’m going into Borden today to get supplies,” William commented.
    Although William couldn’t see anything himself, he trusted his wife’s instincts. She had always