The Valentine Circle

by Reinaldo DelValle

  “That is for me to figure out.”

  “But I don’t know how to...report.”

  “Leave that to me,” he said. “For the time being, I’m offering you the job. What do you think?”

  A sense of elation spread throughout Lucy’s body. Moments later, she flew out of the hallway and down the stairs, overjoyed. She was happy that she’d found a way to support herself with something that didn’t involve music. She’d always been very independent and a hard worker, always intent on making her own way in life. The last thing she wanted to do was ask her parents for help. She wanted to be the master of her own fate. That’s why she chose music in the first place. That’s why she chose to study abroad for a year, away from her parents’ suffocating aristocratic rules. It was all up to her to be successful. Even if it was just a typing job, it was better than nothing, especially when she feared her music career was nearing an end.

  She walked down the stairs with a huge smile on her face, feeling as if a large weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her world was full of hope, and it was nice to finally receive some good news, especially after everything she’d gone through the past few days. Lucy was so engrossed with her own happiness that she failed to remember one of the most important things recently weighing on her mind, the one thing that scared her more than her future. And that’s why, when she burst out of the building’s exit, she nearly gasped for air when she saw him.

  “Shi,” she said breathlessly as she found herself face to face with Silas, who stood leaning against a lamp pole, waiting for her to come out. The minute he heard her call out his former name, his face stiffened.

  “So you do know me.”

  Lucy’s breaths began spiraling out of control. “No, I don’t.” She turned and started to walk away.

  Silas ran up to her and blocked her path. “You said my name. You said Shi. That’s the name that I hear in my visions. How do you know me?”

  Lucy looked into his eyes. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Why are you here, anyway? Did you really come after me?”

  “I don’t know. Did I? Is that why I’m here? Why did I end up here?”

  “Why did you follow me here, Shi?”

  “I didn’t—I mean, I don’t know if I did. I don’t know anything. I don’t know who I am and why I washed up in Boston. I don’t know why I keep thinking about you and why I feel so strongly about you. Who are you? How do I know you? Where did I first meet you? Can’t you tell me that?”

  Lucy thought for a moment. “No.”

  “No? What do you mean, no? You know who I am, who I used to be, and you’re not going to tell me?”

  “It’s best that you don’t remember.”

  “Why? What does that mean? Why shouldn’t I remember? What happened back in Japan?”

  “If you don’t truly know what happened, then I’d rather not tell you.”

  “Well, then can you at least tell me how you know me?” Silas pleaded with her. “Can you at least tell me that?”

  “I...I’m just glad you made it back. That’s all I ever wanted, to see you back here alive.”

  “Alive?” Silas said, now even more confused. “Why do you say that? Was I in danger back there? Is that why I was wounded when I was found on the ship?”

  “I can’t say more. Not here. Not like this. What’s in the past is in the past. You need to forget it.” She turned around and began walking away.

  “No, Lucy, wait!”

  “Just let me be!” Lucy yelled out as she struggled to keep her eyes from tearing up.

  Then Silas let the unthinkable slip out. “Did I love you?”

  Lucy stopped dead in her tracks and turned around. “What?”

  “Did I love you? When I think of you, all I can remember is how much I loved you.”

  The sound of his words made Lucy choke up. She always wondered if he ever loved her, and every time she’d ask him, he would just deny it, protecting his heart by not confronting his true feelings about her. But that was the old Silas, the Silas she fell in love with, a man whose face she never saw except for his eyes and the soul that shone behind them, a man who never dared to reciprocate the love she had for him. A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Lucy?”

  “I have to go.” She turned and ran away, fleeing from him.

  Silas balled up his fists. Damn it. He bent down and ran his hands through his black hair. That didn’t go as well as I had hoped for. All Silas could do was stand there and watch her run away from him. He’d have to wait to talk to her again, wait to find out who he truly was. What did she mean, she was glad to see me back here alive?

  But now he had more pressing matters to attend to. So, after composing himself, he found the nearest passing carriage and grabbed hold of it, catching a ride out of the city.

  ***

  A few hours passed.

  Across town, a weary old man paced the confines of his large study.

  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything,” Posy said as she sat in a large chair, watching Belloc pace back and forth. “What is it that’s bothering you? What did they tell you downtown?”

  “Damn it, Miss Chapman, just let me be!” Belloc raised his cane and swept it across his desk, knocking down everything in sight.

  Posy instantly shot up. “Inspector!”

  “What?” Belloc replied, fury in his eyes. He turned around to look at the mess he’d made. “Yes, yes, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to yell.”

  Posy went to pick up his things. Dalton dove in to help as well.

  “No, no, I can do that. It’s my fault. I got a little out of hand. Just let that be, please.”

  “What’s bothering you, Inspector?”

  “Things didn’t necessarily go too well back at the precinct.”

  “Yes, we gathered that much,” Dalton replied.

  “It seems that all the odds are against us, and any further inquiries into this case will put us all in jeopardy.” Belloc sat down on his chair. “I’m contemplating whether to continue with the case or not.”

  “How can you say that?” Posy asked. “Since when did you ever care about what they say downtown?”

  “This is different. I’m afraid we’ve bit off more than we can chew.”

  “So you’re saying we should quit the case, then?” Dalton asked.

  Belloc looked him straight in the eyes. “Well, I don’t really know just yet. Give me a minute. I’m just saying we should be careful.”

  “Being careful wasn’t something you ever cared about,” Posy said.

  “Well, maybe we should start.”

  “But what about the girls? What about them?”

  “It seems that the fate of this case is out of our hands.”

  “I’m not going to accept that,” Posy replied. “I’m not going to let you throw away this case.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to throw it away, I—just let me think!”

  Posy crossed her arms. “The more time you think, the more we waste. What is it that you always say? Time is of the essence?”

  “Not now, Miss Chapman. Please. Enough!”

  Then the three of them began hearing loud thumps coming from Silas’s room. They all looked at each other.

  “What is that?” Belloc wondered.

  “I don’t know,” Dalton replied. “I thought Silas was away.”

  “He is,” Posy said, taking out her revolver and approaching the door to Silas’s bedroom.

  “Be careful, Miss Chapman,” Belloc said as he stood up. “Don’t just go barging in there. We don’t know what’s making that noise. Dalton, stay near her.”

  Posy reached the bedroom door, and she could clearly hear the thumps sounding off from inside the room. What could that be? Carefully, she opened the door. Immediately, she recognized the origin of the sound.

  Silas.

  He was lying on his bed, flinging his black darts on the wall in front o
f him, all hitting the makeshift bullseye with deadly precision. He was getting better at his skills, and he knew this. “Are you guys finished with your banter?” He wasn’t in the greatest of moods.

  “So you’ve been here all along?” Posy asked.

  “Enough to hear your ridiculous insecurities play out amidst a whole lot of screaming.” He stood up. His shirt was off.

  Posy blushed. “And what is your great idea?” Posy said, staring at him, then at his chest, then his eyes, then back to his chest.

  “It’s simple.” Silas suddenly jumped up onto his desk chair, balancing himself on the top rail. “Solve the case.”

  The three others just watched in amazement as he balanced himself like some bird grabbing onto a thin branch.

  “What’s the matter?” Silas said as he then grabbed the top rail with his hands and carefully pushed himself up into a handstand. “Never seen a man do this before?”

  Silence.

  He jumped off the chair’s rail and landed on the ground. “Belloc, I thought we agreed we wouldn’t turn back. We’re in this rabbit hole together, and we need to see it to its end.”

  “I was only worrying about our safety.”

  “Screw safety. Safety is something we gave up with this job. What about the safety of the girls? It’s not right.”

  There was a moment of intense stares between the two of them.

  “All right, fine,” Belloc said, coming back to his senses. “You’re right. We owe it to the girls. Solve the case it is, then, Silas.”

  Silas smiled. “Good.”

  “Good.” Belloc agreed. “Now put on a shirt. You’re making Posy turn as red as an apple.”

  “He’s what—I’m what, wait...” Posy blurted, flustered.

  Dalton wasn’t too impressed. Actually, he was, but he sure didn’t let it show.

  “So, what do we do now?” Silas said, following them back into the study.

  “We...continue,” Belloc said, once again taking control of the case and showing some authority. “I would have to say that approaching the parents, or any of the adults in the society for that matter, is out of the question. But the girls we can still help. They don’t have to know we’re looking out for them. We’ll keep our distance, and hopefully, when the killer comes back, we’ll be waiting for him. We might not be able to get to the Decampses and their friends, but we can sure as hell get to Mr. Factory, or whoever that monster is.”

  “I like it so far,” Silas said.

  “Good,” Belloc replied, “because I need you to go hunt after him.”

  “Hunt him?”

  “Yes, you’ll go hunting after Mr. Factory. Whatever skills you’ve learned from your memories, you need to utilize to figure out who this killer is. You can start with that ticket stub Mr. Grant gave you. Trace its origins and begin from there. Wherever it takes you, you follow. Understood?”

  “Perfectly,” Silas said. “Now, will I get in trouble for knocking on doors outside my jurisdiction?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what do I do, then?”

  “Don’t go knocking on doors.” Belloc smiled. “You’re a smart man with a dark past. I entrust you to figure it out.” He took an object out of his desk drawer and lobbed it at Silas. “Here.”

  “What is it?” Silas said, catching it.

  “It’s your new badge. I’m promoting you to Deputy Inspector. You’ll need it. If you do get caught asking too many questions, at least they’ll know you’re a bonafide investigator.”

  “Nice,” Silas said, looking at the shiny object.

  “There’s no pay raise, of course.”

  “Oh.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “So, wait, he’s on the force for less than a week and he’s an investigator now?” Posy said, quite peeved.

  “What’s it to you, Miss Chapman?” Belloc replied. “You’re something entirely different.”

  “I’m just letting out my frustration, is all.”

  “Well, stop it. There’s no time for that now. We need to go over this map and figure out the best way to secure these girls’ mansions.”

  “Aye, sir,” Posy said, playfully falling in line.

  “Oh, and Silas?” Belloc said.

  “Yes?”

  “You can go now.”

  “Oh...right, of course.”

  Belloc turned around. “And be careful.”

  “I will,” Silas said with a smile.

  “Come on,” Belloc said to the others. “We have work to do.”

  Posy and Dalton followed Belloc to his study desk as Silas turned away and walked into his room. Posy kept her eyes on Silas as he shut the door behind him.

  *

  “Shi?”

  “Yes, Sensei?”

  “Why are you so troubled?”

  “I worry, Sensei.”

  “About the hunt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t, Shi. Worry only weakens the mind. To worry is to show a lack of trust.”

  “What do you mean? I trust you, Sensei.”

  “I was not talking about me, Shi. You don’t trust yourself. Worry is a sign of the weak relationship between the mind and body. Your mind must trust your body to perform what it has learned, and your body must trust the mind to instruct what it knows. A hunter cannot subsist with only one and not the other. Both must be in complete harmony. You have learned your tools, now you must trust your body to use them. Likewise, you are knowledgeable in the way of the spirit and the art of the body. Atemi, Nage, Shime, Osae Komi—these are all techniques which you have infused into your spirit. Don’t think. Don’t worry. Let the mind and body converse with each other as one union. Do not obstruct that relationship with weak thoughts. Let it happen through you as water happens upon a stream, as heat happens upon fire. It just does. One cannot be without the other. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sensei.”

  “Remember that, when on the hunt, your outer self must reflect your training as well. Only hunt in the night, in the dark, for you are an agent of the dark, a black raven whose power is transformed by the shadows. Once you master the night, you will move like it, like a gray cloud moving within the moon’s mist. You can strike at a moment’s notice. To be the night, you must dress like the night. To be the passing gray cloud, you must marry the shadow. But always remember, keep your heart full of light, for once you go into complete darkness, you will need something to bring you back.”

  “Will do, Sensei.”

  Silas sat inside a quaint men’s clothing boutique. His eyes were shut; Silas was far off into another one of his trance-like memories, experiencing the wisdom of his former mentor. But soon his vision would be interrupted by a short, thin man stomping up to the front desk.

  “Would that be all, then?” the tailor said, sporting a well-groomed mustache.

  “Um, yes, that’s all,” Silas abruptly replied, shaking off his momentary lapse of consciousness. “Just like I told you, like the pictures I drew, especially of the raven.”

  “Not a problem, sir.”

  “And make sure to have it delivered here.” Silas stood up and handed the tailor a piece of paper with Belloc’s townhome’s address. “How long will it be?”

  “A day or two at the most.”

  “Splendid,” Silas replied, looking around the shop.

  “Will there be anything else?” the tailor said, noticing Silas’s indecisive posture.

  “Well, I’d rather not go snooping around with this uniform on. Maybe I can find something temporary for now.”

  “Such as?”

  “If I can get a plain dark coat and a dark hat, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  “Absolutely.” The tailor walked towards the back to show Silas some of his off-the-rack collection.

  “Any old thing will do, at least to tie me up while I wait for my order to arrive. You know my size. Just find something quickly.”

  “Sure thing,” the tailor said as he rummaged through some coats.


  As Silas waited, he dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was the ticket stub Mr. Grant had given him. “Boston and Lowell RR station.” That’s a good place to start.

  Paying for his new garb, he put on his long, dark overcoat and elegant top hat. “Thanks again for your help.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll have your items delivered promptly.”

  “Good man,” Silas replied as he exited the shop.

  The train terminal wasn’t far off from the tailor’s shop, only taking Silas and his driver a few minutes to reach it. Once they arrived, Silas quickly stepped out of the carriage, eager to find out more about the ticket stub. He turned to the driver. “Wait here.”

  Approaching the large, red-bricked building, he made sure to put his new badge on his chest where everyone could see it. He found it pleasant to see people nod to him with respect. Way better than being a rookie.

  “Always appreciated,” he said to the doorman as he entered the terminal, making his way through the large archways holding up the main building. Inside, he walked towards one of the office windows. As he approached, waiting for him was a wiry, little old man dressed up in a crisp uniform.

  “Good morning, sir,” the old man said.

  “And a good morning to you.”

  “Are you going on a day trip? I say that because you have no luggage.”

  “No, I’m just here to inquire about something.”

  “Oh?”

  Silas pulled out the ticket stub Mr. Grant had given him. “I found this stub at a crime scene. Now, it doesn’t tell me much, since it’s just the stub of a ticket, plus it’s been torn up a bit as you can see. There’s a series of numbers on it. I was wondering if you could decipher those for me.”

  “I can sure try,” the man said. Once Silas gave him the stub, he studied it for a moment. “Hmm, all the numbers seem to be intact. Give me a moment here.” He bent over to grab a couple of manifestos that were both about four inches thick. He slammed them on the table. “Sorry about that. Let’s see then, these numbers here tell me where it came from.” He searched down a schedule of trains. “This is the Lawrence train. Yes, from Lawrence to Lowell and then to Boston.”

  “Lawrence?”