Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • W I N T E R 2 0 1 8 82 THE DISAPPEAR- ANCE OF FATHER KERRIGAN Late one evening in 1984, Father John Kerrigan, days after ar- riving at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Ronan, Montana, where he was to be the new priest, went to the local bakery. ere he spoke to several ac- quaintances, members of his congregation. After that, he was never seen, alive or dead, ever again. Some articles of his clothes, stained with blood, were found along the road. A short while later, authorities found a bloody coat hanger, which was hypothesized to have restrained Father Ker- rigan. en, a week later, his car was found on a country road, the inside splashed with a great deal of blood. Kerrigan's keys were sev- eral feet away, and inside his vehicle they found a shovel, a bloody pillow, and the Father's wallet, still containing quite a bit of cash. Since the wallet and cash were still intact, it did not appear that the motive for Father Kerrigan's murder had been theft, which led investigators to link the crime to another murder of one Father Riviera that had occurred in New Mexico only two days before. Later evidence shed doubt on whether the same killer could have committed both crimes. e case was even featured on the popular television program "Unsolved Mysteries" in the hope that its millions of viewers could help solve the crime, but to this day there have been no suspects, let alone arrests or convictions. However, one fact which has recently come to light may hold an important clue: in 2015, Kerrigan came posthumously under investigation for sexual misconduct, which might suggest a motive in his murder. MADAME GUYOT, IN THE MOUNTAIN LODGE, WITH A KNIFE—OR A GUN In 1868, Madame Guyot (history, sadly, does not record the poor woman's first name), French Canadian, wife of one Constant Guyot, was murdered in her own home—or rather, the hostel that she ran, high up in MacDonald Pass. Constant had secured the right to collect tolls on a private road he had built along the Little Bighorn River, which had gained the man some enemies outraged that he was able to collect tolls before the road was even built, including Governor Clay Smith himself. e road became known as "e Frenchwoman's Road," after Madame Guyot, who offered beds and meals for gold dust. Rumors have it that she had managed to ferret away quite a bit of the stuff—secret even from her husband. She was found dead in her lodge; and though initial reports placed the cause of death as a stabbing, it was later reported that she had been shot at close range through her head. Madame Guyot's belongings were ransacked, her bed opened up with a knife, and her gold dust, if there was any, was gone. Popular opinion first favored the husband as perpetrator. Con- stant Guyot had left the house early that morning to tend to a hay field a few miles off, accompanied by a hired hand. Two hours later her body was discovered by a family arriving at the hostel. is would suggest that whoever killed Madame Guyot was lucky in his timing—or knew when she was going to be alone. MURDER ON THE BOZEMAN TRAIL John Bozeman, namesake for the trail and, later, town in South- west Montana, was many things: a handsome Southern gentleman, unsuccessful business man, successful womanizer, and recipient of a fatal bullet. He had been on the Bozeman Trail on the way to Fort Kearny in April, 1867, when, according to his travelling companion, omas Cover, several Native-Americans approached them. Cover thought they were of the Crow tribe and therefore friendly to white travel- ers, but after they got close he realized they were hostile Blackfeet. Someone shot first. Bozeman was hit and apparently died instantly, while Cover, wounded by another bullet, shot one attacker and drove off the other. at is, if you believe Cover. ere are those who claim that Bozeman, well-known for his extra-marital conquests, was often more-than-usually proximate to Cover's wife. One bystander remembered hearing Cover's wife remark on Bozeman's looks before they headed out on their final trip together, to which Cover was reported to say "Yes, and take a good look at the son of a bitch, because this is the last you are go- ing to see of him!" May these accounts send a wintry chill down your spine, and make you glad of your hot cocoa. Toll hostel on MacDonald Pass

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