The Valentine Circle

by Reinaldo DelValle

  Dalton stood up and walked over to the trunk. “What is all that?”

  “I think all of this belonged to me. I think...whatever I did back in Japan, it had something to do with all of this…stuff.”

  In front of him, resting on a bed of black velvet, were a number of dark and ominous weapons, from small, miniscule ones to large and robust instruments of violence, and in Silas’s view, they were all magnificent.

  He grabbed the first one on top. It was a long, wooden stick, similar to a cane, but when he grabbed it by one end, he instantly recognized it as more than just a cane. With a flick of his wrist, he broke the stick open, revealing a long and bright sword. This was mine?

  Without effort, he remembered what the type of weapon was called. “Shikomizue.” He marveled at the blade. Yet even though it was his, he didn’t feel like he was competent enough to wield such a thing. His skills with the sword were still a little hazy in his mind, so he placed it aside, useless for the time being.

  He reached inside and pulled out two prong-shaped metal batons that had two curved prongs projecting from both of their handles. “Sai.” He twirled them around without even knowing he could. These I know how to handle better, but I’m still a bit clumsy.

  He reached for another object. “Fukija.” It was a long blowgun, and attached to the long tube were a couple of darts. Interesting.

  Next, he pulled out a large bag full of shuriken, or throwing stars. He gazed at them with a sense of awe.

  But what truly caught his attention were the next two objects inside the trunk.

  “Kamas,” he said with great joy. Apparently, these two weapons had been his favorites. He pulled them out, both being wooden sticks about a foot and a half in length and both having a curved, sickle-like blade protruding from the top end.

  He stood up and grasped those kamas like he was a child who had been given a new toy to play with. His eyes sparkled, and his grin stretched from ear to ear. These two weapons I know quite well.

  His eyes shrank, his cheeks sunk in, and his face became gaunt and dark. These two blades I grasp in my hands, these here...were my wrath.

  He took them and spun them around with ease. His skill set with the kamas was at 100 percent. He could’ve never forgotten how to wield what he was best at. Never.

  He looked inside the trunk and saw a whole pile of other interesting objects, most of which he was clueless about. There were some boots in there as well, along with some dark clothing, things that appeared to be potions and medicine, and even some food, possibly what he loved to dine on during his former days in Japan.

  Lastly, he spotted something peculiar. It was a patch of some sort, circular in shape, with an embroidered drawing of a three-legged raven. This is the same image of the raven I described to the tailor.

  Dalton stepped up to him. “Just who exactly are you?”

  “Apparently, someone you don’t mess with.”

  Dalton gulped.

  Silas walked up to Belloc and knelt down beside him. “I think I hear help coming up the stairs. You’ll get treated soon. It’s going to be all right.”

  “I know, Silas. Sorry that I seemed so hopeless before, but now, seeing what you have inside that trunk, I’ve been filled with a bit of hope. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe you can change things. If you feel up to the task, Silas, go and get those girls to safety. But only if you feel up to it.”

  “Inspector, don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of things. I’ll make things right.”

  “Hurry and go, Silas,” Belloc pleaded, “and don’t come back until they’re all safe.”

  *

  “ALL RIGHT, I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW WITH MY REPORT,” Lucy shouted as she exited the Boston Evening Globe’s office.

  The editor poked his head out. “Remember, try to ask important questions about what Mr. Burrows did in the war, the stuff he’s not really supposed to talk about.”

  “I’ll try, Mr. Thompson.” Lucy ran down the stairs.

  “Good luck.” The editor closed the door.

  As she reached the sidewalk, Lucy unexpectedly ran into her boyfriend, who sat inside his carriage, waiting for her to exit the building. She dug her feet deep in the snow, stopping in her tracks.

  “Don’t be so excited to see me,” he said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. Come on—let me take you to the shop. I don’t like the idea of you being all alone.”

  “So you’ve been following me all this time?”

  “For the most part,” he replied, walking up to her. “I did see that you visited some building I didn’t recognize.”

  “Why did you follow me?”

  “I’m just scared for you. I don’t know why you’re so set on wanting to walk all the way downtown by yourself. Just because you’re so independent doesn’t mean you have to refuse my ride. I think it does you more harm than good.”

  “You came down all this way just to offer me a ride?”

  “Yes. Why does that seem so strange to you? Don’t you want me to be here? Does it have something to do with that building I saw you head into? Were you visiting someone you didn’t want me to know about?”

  “I was visiting Inspector Belloc. I went to talk to him about my sister’s case. Are you satisfied with that answer?”

  “I was just wondering. I just don’t like you keeping secrets.”

  “You could give me the courtesy of allowing me a bit of privacy in my life.”

  “I understand.” He fidgeted. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I still want you to come with me so you won’t have to walk all the way to the shop, especially since it’s nearing evening time.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know that.” He opened the door for her. “So, what do you say?”

  “What do I say?” Lucy carefully pondered on what to say next. “I’m in love with someone else,” she declared, watching as his face turned pale, and an awkward silence filled the air. “Do you still want me to ride with you?” she said, egging him on.

  “What do you mean, you’re in love with someone else?”

  “What’s so difficult to understand? I’m in love with a man that I loved before I even knew you, and now he’s come back to me.” But then, sympathizing with him, she said, “I’m sorry I had to do this like this, but you and I both know things haven’t been going so well for the past month. We’re just not cut out for each other. I’m sorry.”

  “So you’re just going to drop me?”

  “Yes, I think so,” Lucy replied, turning away. “It feels good to take charge of my life, and if that involves leaving you and finding someone that truly loves me and wants to pay attention to me, then so be it.”

  “That wasn’t very ladylike to say.”

  “I’m not really trying to be a lady at the moment,” she replied, turning back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to be late for my interview. Good day.” Lucy turned and walked away, her head high, her heels forcefully knocking against the hard cement.

  Confused and broken-hearted, her boyfriend watched Lucy walk away before taking over the reins of his horse-drawn carriage and speedily departing from the curb.

  ***

  In the meantime, about three blocks away, Silas stood along the ledge of a seven-story building, gazing over the sunset-lit terrain. He wore his plain dark coat and hat, with his revolver strapped to his waist and both his kama blades secured neatly inside his coat. From where he stood, he could see Mendel and Merle boarding a carriage, lugging around a number of bags with them. What are those two up to?

  Behind the siblings, a group of large, burly officers exited the precinct, making their way towards their own carriage. Once everyone was set to go, both carriages departed from the police station.

  Without a second to spare, Silas took to the fire escapes, jumping off them and swinging from one to the other with ease. Touching ground at last, he looked around for a carriage he could commandeer
. Spotting one near a lamppost, he ran over to it and approached the driver. “Sir, I need to borrow your carriage.” Silas showed the driver his badge.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I need your carriage to trail a number of suspects who are on their way to what I believe is a potential crime scene. Please, sir. Step aside.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “Sir, you don’t understand. You must cooperate.”

  “No, sir, I do not. Now, if you don’t mind, please leave me alone.”

  I don’t have time for this. Without warning, Silas took the driver by surprise and grabbed the back of his coat. With only one arm, Silas picked him up and vigorously threw him on the ground, accidentally hurting the man. Unbeknownst to Silas, he was steadily becoming more aggressive as his mind began to channel more memories from his past.

  “You should have listened,” Silas remarked before stepping up into the driver’s bench. Quickly, he took off after Mendel and his band of officers, keeping a good bit of distance between his carriage and theirs. After traveling for half an hour, he ended up at Worcester Estates. Passing the Decampses’ mansion and turning left onto Valentine Court, Mendel and his officers pulled up to the Haralsons’ home. Silas stayed about fifty yards behind them. I wonder if they know where Mr. Factory is.

  Silas dismounted his carriage and took to the shadows. Using the moon as a tool, he kept hidden behind its light, inching himself closer to their carriages until he was about five feet from them, observing, like a ghost studying the actions of the living.

  “You take this one,” Mendel said, handing a bag to Merle.

  “What’s in here?”

  “That’s for Mr. Factory. His tools are inside. Don’t drop it.”

  “Oh, I see. Can I take a look?”

  “I’ve already scoured through it. There’s nothing terribly exciting. It’s just a bunch of surgical stuff.”

  “And what, may I ask, do you have in your bag?”

  “All that we need to prep the house with. I was thinking we need to scrap our original plan and have him enter through the second floor, using one of the middle windows.”

  “Easier said than done. We never planned for that. How are we going to make that happen?”

  “Just leave that to me,” Mendel replied. “Now hurry up.”

  “I’m ready,” Merle said, holding up her bag. “You’re the one talking excessively.”

  Mendel turned to the group of officers headed by Clarkson. “You guys surround the perimeter.”

  “But what about the rest of the officers?” Clarkson replied.

  “Just try to be friendly. Tell them you were sent by O’Hara himself, for extra security.”

  “Fine.” Clarkson turned to his men. “I want three of you near the back. The rest, come with me.”

  The Haralson mansion was made up of brick and stone, and two large circular bay windows held up both corners of the home. Turrets reached up from the bay windows all the way up to the roof, ending in pyramid-like spires.

  Mendel and his group made their way towards the entrance, passing by the first set of guards, who let them in without hesitating. Reaching the front door, the two silver-haired siblings were greeted by Mr. Haralson, who let them inside as soon as he saw them.

  So the parents are in this together. Silas shook his head as a flame of rage ignited inside his heart. He tightened his fists, turning his knuckles white. Whatever happens, I can’t let this girl be harmed.

  Sneaking in through the shadows, he ran up to the mansion’s fence and scaled over it with a leap and jump, landing softly on the ground. Ahead of him, he saw Clarkson and his men doing their best to blend in with the other patrolling guards. Evaluating the scene, he realized the best thing to do was to sneak in through one of the rear windows. Not many guards were patrolling the rear perimeter. Plus, it wasn’t lit up as brightly as the front part of the mansion. Amateurs.

  He made his way across the yard, sticking to the pockets of shadows until he reached the mansion’s backyard. There, he saw five officers patrolling the rear perimeter. Silas utilized the darkness to make it to the mansion’s rear wall, where he used the uneven bricks to scale up the side of the house. Reaching the second floor, he shimmied across the ledge until he reached a large window near the mansion’s eastern side. He kept to the corner, watching the lanterns in the room suddenly turn on as Mendel and his sister walked in. They placed both bags on top of a large desk and began to take the contents out of Mr. Factory’s surgical bag, placing the tools on top of a blanket lying across the desk’s sturdy surface. One by one, they brought the tools out, hideous things resembling torture devices.

  I can’t even begin to imagine what he does to these poor girls. “These bastards have worked with Mr. Factory all along,” Silas whispered to himself, “prepping the scenes, making it as easy as possible for him. What did these girls get themselves into? Is this what happens when you cross the Valentine Society?”

  After they had set up the workstation for Mr. Factory, Mendel headed over to the next room. Immediately, Silas shimmied across the ledge to the next window, which he suspected was Miss Catherine Haralson’s bedroom—and indeed it was—finding her peacefully sleeping on her bed with a lantern resting atop her dresser, faintly lighting up the room.

  Seconds later, Mendel entered the room, as if trying to sneak up on the girl. Worried for the girl’s safety, Silas quickly searched around the window’s edges, figuring out the best way to unlock it, but to his surprise it was already unlocked. Hmm, maybe her parents unlocked the window to make it easier for ‘you-know-who’ to slide in.

  With a gentle touch, he pushed the window up, easily opening it without making the slightest bit of sound. Like a soft, black mist seeping into the girl’s chambers, Silas skillfully climbed inside and pushed himself against a darkened wall without Mendel noticing that he’d just stepped inside the room.

  Mendel set a couple of things down on the girl’s night stand and then grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the sleeping girl. Careful not to wake her, Mendel sat down and reached inside his coat pocket.

  What the hell is he doing?

  He pulled out an object to use on Miss Haralson, but from his angle, Silas couldn’t tell what the object was, so he sidestepped to the right a little, trying to figure out what Mendel had in his hand.

  Again, he couldn’t make the object out, so he took another step, dangerously exposing himself within the lantern’s shine. Now he could see what Mendel had pulled out, at least in part. It was some type of shiny object that glimmered against the room’s glow.

  A knife? Alarmed, Silas took a few steps forward, stretching his neck, having a difficult time deciphering the shiny instrument. Wait...is that...is he going to drug her? Is that what he does for Mr. Factory? That sneaky little bastard!

  Silas knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to let Mendel harm the girl, so he slowly reached inside his coat and pulled out one of his kama blades in order to cut and incapacitate Mendel before he could administer the drug. Taking another step, he raised his sickle-like weapon up in the air, ready to strike.

  In came the parents.

  It was all a shock to Silas, when, at the moment he was about to strike at Mendel, the door suddenly opened up to Catherine’s room, and in stepped Mr. and Mrs. Haralson, along with a number of officers led by the brutish Clarkson. Between them, they had about five lanterns, so when they walked inside the bedroom, the whole place magically lit up.

  Unexpectedly caught off guard, Silas was now vulnerable and alone. Wait, what just happened?

  “What are you doing in my daughter’s room?” Mr. Haralson screamed at the top of his lungs.

  Mendel shot up, quickly turning around and backing away, pretending to be afraid.

  Catherine abruptly woke up from her sleep and sat up. The first thing she saw was Silas with his weapon raised over his head. Instantly, she let out a spine-chilling yell. “No! He’s going to kill me! Don’t let
him take my baby!”

  Confused, Silas backed away, lowering his weapon.

  Clarkson and the other officers pulled out their revolvers and aimed them at Silas. “Put the weapon down slowly,” Clarkson said, “or I swear I’ll fill you up full of lead.”

  Silas didn’t know what to do, so he raised his other arm to calm everyone down in the room. “I’m not here to kill anyone. I’m Deputy Inspector de San Michel of the Boston PD. I was trailing these men. I thought they were coming here to assault your daughter. That man there came inside your daughter’s bedroom and sat down beside her in order to drug her, so his accomplice, the true killer, could come later and take your daughter’s baby.”

  “That’s utterly ridiculous!” Mendel said.

  “I saw the steel instrument in your hand. You were about to administer that drug so Mr. Factory could perform a c-section on her.”

  “Mr. who?” Mendel asked. “What nonsense you speak. Look here.” He showed everyone what he had in his hand. “This is merely a stethoscope and nothing else.” He held it up high so that everyone in the room could see.

  “No, no, that’s not what you had in your hand. I saw something else. It wasn’t that.”

  “This is all I have. I came inside to check up on Miss Haralson’s vitals.”

  “Of course you did. And why would you care about her vitals?”

  “I care a great deal about them, being that I’m her doctor.”

  “Her what?” Silas replied incredulously. “And you expect me to believe that?”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t really care what you believe, but it’s the truth. I’ve been her doctor for a long time, and I’m here to check up on her, seeing that she will be giving birth in a few weeks.”

  “You lie! You’re working with Mr. Factory, and so is your sister. These brutes that you brought with you were the ones that assaulted my colleagues, especially Inspector Belloc.”

  “I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mendel said in a very calm voice.

  Clarkson cocked his gun. “I won’t say it again. Put that blade down, or we’ll open fire.”