The Valentine Circle

by Reinaldo DelValle

  “Then stop talking and listen to me. Let’s go.” Catherine broke away from her. “Come on.”

  Frances followed Catherine until they reached the main office.

  “Oh, I hope it’s open.” Reaching the office, Catherine quickly grabbed hold of the doorknob. “Oh, thank God.” She acted surprised that the door was left open. “This way, Frances, come on.”

  Seconds later, Frances joined Catherine inside the main office. “What are we doing?”

  “He won’t be able to find us here. If he comes, we’ll just lock ourselves in.”

  They stood idly for a moment, letting their breathing calm down.

  “Well, aren’t you going to lock the door?” Frances asked.

  “Oh, right, of course.”

  Frances saw that Catherine’s hands were trembling, so she grabbed them. “It’s going to be okay, Cathy. We’re going to be safe here, and that monster won’t find us, and he won’t take our babies. I promise, Cathy. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know, Frances,” Catherine replied with a sad tone. She turned around and walked over towards the door. She turned to Frances. “I’m locking the door now.” She paused for a second. “It’s going to be all right, Frances. It’s going to be all right.” She quickly stepped outside and closed the door, locking Frances inside.

  “Cathy?” Frances said, bewildered. “What are you doing? Come inside.” She ran up to the door and started banging on it. “What are you doing, Cathy? He’ll get you if you stay out there. Why are you doing this? Come back inside.”

  Catherine stared at her friend with a dour face and then turned away from her, refusing to look at her any longer. Standing outside the office for almost a minute, she waited patiently for Mr. Factory to reach them.

  He stepped out of the shadows. “Oh, hello, Miss Haralson.”

  She didn’t mutter a word.

  “I see you’ve trapped a little bird for me, squirming inside her little cage.”

  Catherine just nodded.

  “You’ve done a fine job, Miss Haralson. I am very satisfied.”

  A tear ran down Catherine’s cheek.

  “Come now, Miss Haralson. I’d rather you not do that in front of me. It kills the mood.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. All is forgiven.” He walked up closer to her.

  She trembled.

  He caressed her face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Are y-y-you going to let me go?”

  “I said if you brought me Miss Dupuys, I wouldn’t harm you. We made a deal, Miss Haralson, and I intend to honor it.”

  “Th-thank you.” Catherine shook beyond belief.

  “No, thank you, Miss Haralson. I could not have done this without you.”

  “Y-you’re welcome.”

  He smiled.

  “Can...c-can I go now?”

  “Fly away, little bird. But before you go, I have one thing for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This,” he said as he stabbed her belly. Catherine was left in complete shock, letting out a sickly moan. He pulled out his knife and waved it in her face. “Never make a deal with a killer.” He grabbed her cheeks and squeezed them. “Shh, it’s okay. Your baby will die within a few minutes, but you’ll be all right. Your father made it very clear that I was not to harm you, unlike some of the other parents. He obviously loves you with all his heart. The baby, I’m afraid, does not have his sympathies.” He released her, letting Catherine drop to the floor in pain. “Try to think happy thoughts, Miss Haralson. The police and the ambulance will be here shortly.”

  He walked over to the main office, watching Frances’s face as it displayed a number of emotions. He took his bloodied knife and tapped the door’s window. “Do you feel betrayed, Miss Dupuys?” He tapped on the window once more. “And suddenly there came a tapping as if someone gently rapping, rapping on the office door?” His smile made Frances’s blood turn cold. “Open up, dear.”

  Frances shook her head.

  “Now, Miss Dupuys, I’m afraid that’s all too rude for a young lady of class like yourself.”

  Frances began backing away.

  “Let me in, Miss Dupuys. It’s time that I claimed that baby of yours.”

  Frances instinctively put her hands on her belly.

  “That’s not going to protect it.” He kept tapping on the office door. “Frances, let’s make a deal, shall we? You give me the baby and I’ll let you live, the same deal I gave your bloodstained friend lying on the floor. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

  “No,” she breathed out.

  “No? Frances, I find it rather difficult to accept anything less than your baby’s life. Let’s think about this logically for a second. You don’t really need that baby. You’re still young. Give it to me, and I’ll let you live so you can have more babies when you’re older, when you’re ready. It’s a give and take, Frances. You give, and I take.” He gave her a ghoulish grin.

  Trembling, Frances backed into a desk, which forced her to turn her head and catch a glimpse of a large key ring with various small keys attached to it. Instantly, she recognized it as the master key ring. She lunged for it, then immediately turned to her rear, spotting a back door out of the office. She took off towards the door, lightly jogging, for it was impossible to do anything else in her condition.

  Furious, Mr. Factory reacted by putting his fist through the office window and then reaching for the doorknob.

  Frances took the keys and tried opening the back door, struggling to find the right one until she eventually opened it. Stepping through, she found herself in front of a long staircase leading down towards the sub-level. She took the stairs carefully, waddling down the steps until she reached the exit.

  Again she fiddled with the keys, suddenly hearing Mr. Factory reaching the back door of the office. Fumbling through a few more keys, she finally opened the door leading outside. Bursting out of the building, she closed the door and locked it, leaving the key attached. Frantically, she searched for something she could use to smash the key into the lock. Finding a heavy rock, she took it and pounded the key until it lodged itself inside the keyhole.

  She threw the rock down and walked away from the rear of the building towards the front, where she could see a few streetlamps and some houses with their lanterns still on. She knew that if she reached the row of townhouses, she’d probably be able to find help.

  But then she began feeling pain around her midsection, as if her stomach suddenly balled up into a fist, and she stopped, putting her hand on her belly. She bent over in agonizing pain. Frances tried walking but couldn’t; it was just too painful.

  Behind her, Mr. Factory had already reached the bottom door and was pounding as hard as he could in order to burst through.

  Frances tried getting up, and for a second she was successful, but as she took a few steps towards the streets, she buckled and fell onto the cold, snowy ground. She cried out in pain, not knowing why she hurt so much.

  SLAM! The door flew open after Mr. Factory finally used his leg to break it down. Taking his time walking up to Frances, he tapped his large blade on the side of his thigh.

  Frances could do nothing but stare as her pursuer came closer.

  Alas, he reached her.

  “Oh, my,” Mr. Factory said. “That’s a rather odd look for you, twisting and squirming. You need to wait here while I go get a carriage.”

  “What? Where are you taking me?”

  “Oh, perhaps I should’ve mentioned this, but it seems, Miss Dupuys, that your baby actually gets to live. I think it’s better that way. It’ll work towards my advantage.”

  “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “You’d best be quiet, Miss Dupuys. We have a long life ahead of us, and it’s best to start it on the right foot.”

  Out in the streets, the sound of police carriages were heard arriving at the train station.

  “Looks like my friends are here.” Mr. Factory
knelt beside Frances. “It wouldn’t do you any good to scream. They’re not going to do anything for you. It’s better for you to come with me. Don’t worry, Frances. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  He took his knife and caressed her stomach with it before standing up and calmly leaving to find a carriage.

  ***

  The next morning, inside Massachusetts General Hospital, Inspector Belloc opened his eyes. He’d been sleeping for quite some time, and now that the pain from his injuries was beginning to recede, he was able to relax and talk without any discomfort. It was a gloomy day outside, and the winter wind rumbled against his room’s window. He heard a knock at his door. Must be breakfast.

  It wasn’t. It was an orderly who had brought Posy with him on a wheeled stretcher. Carefully, he wheeled her in and placed her next to Belloc.

  “What’s all this?”

  Charles, his orderly, replied, “She insisted to be near you. I think she was tired of not having anyone to complain to.”

  “I can hear you, Charles,” Posy said.

  “Oh, dear, you’re awake,” he said. “Glory to the heavens.” Charles left the room, quite in a hurry.

  Posy turned to Belloc and smiled.

  “I thought you were breakfast.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Posy replied. “It’s not the end of the world. You need to drop a couple of pounds, anyway.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just joking,” Posy said, laughing, then coughing and feeling a rush of pain in her shoulder.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Other than my shoulder, I’m in prizefighting form.”

  “Say, why are you here anyway?”

  “I was shot.” She gave him a smart-alecky smile.

  “No, no. Why are you in my room?”

  “Oh, ‘cause I asked them to put me here.”

  “But why?”

  “To bother you, of course.”

  “Oh dear.” Belloc sighed. “It’s a good thing I slept before you came in here.” He turned to her. “No, but seriously, what gives?”

  Posy pulled out a folder with some papers. “While I’ve been recuperating, and you’ve been snoring to high heaven, I’ve been working on these reports.”

  “You don’t have to work while you’re in the hospital, Miss Chapman. I told you that already when you first came in. And what do you mean, I snore?”

  “The whole floor heard you. And, anyway, I have nothing else to do. Plus, we still haven’t solved this case.”

  Belloc rolled his eyes. “This case has already been solved.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “It’s easy.” Belloc sat up. “The Valentine Society is responsible for the murders of their own children, and we can’t do a thing about it. See? Case solved.”

  “Do you really believe we can’t do anything about it?”

  Belloc held up his wounded limbs. “Look at me! What am I going to do?”

  “You can wait until you feel better and then continue.”

  “Oh, that’s sounds like a grand ole time. What I need to do is go and find my breakfast.”

  Posy put the files down. “So you still haven’t heard from Silas?”

  “No. Not yet. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’s fine. Dalton freed him and he left. He can take care of himself now that he’s aware of who’s after him.” Belloc saw that she was truly worried for Silas. “Posy, I want to say something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Silas...is in a very unstable emotional state at the moment. I know that you care a great deal for him, and I’m sure he cares about you as well, but after what he just went through, it’s better if you don’t...rush into things.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Posy. Let him have his time. Don’t rush him, or he’ll just pull away.”

  Posy just sighed. “You’re just talking nonsense now. Just yap, yap, yap.” Posy still wasn’t keen on talking about her feelings for Silas.

  “But he’ll still be there for the baby.”

  She didn’t say a word and pretended to go over her notes.

  Dalton walked in.

  “Hi there,” Posy said, relieved to see someone else.

  “They said you would both be in here,” Dalton said.

  “Are those for me?” Posy said, staring at the pretty flowers in his hand.

  “Absolutely.” Dalton handed her the bouquet.

  “They’re beautiful,” Posy replied.

  Belloc mumbled under his breath.

  “What’s that?” Posy said.

  “Nothing,” Belloc said. “I’m just hungry, is all.”

  “Right. Thanks, Dalton. This means a lot to me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “So, heard anything about Silas?”

  Dalton’s disposition soured. “Silas?”

  Noticing his body language, Posy tried to soften the blow. “Yes, um, Belloc was asking me about him, but I said I didn’t know.”

  Belloc turned to her. “I what?”

  “Shut up,” she whispered.

  “Oh,” Dalton replied. “Well, the last I saw of him, he was running out of the precinct. I couldn’t go after him, since I had to clean up my mess. I also had a lot of explaining to do.”

  “How did that go?” Belloc asked.

  “I had to turn in my badge and gun.”

  “I’m sorry, Dalton,” Belloc said.

  “It is what it is.” Dalton sat down.

  “Did you find out anything?” Posy asked.

  “Well, the scene at your apartment has been wiped clean. O’Hara has gone into hiding for the time being and his officers are acting like nothing ever happened to you and Posy, denying everything. But I fear that the Society is not going to forget what Posy did to their goons, and I’ll bet O’Hara and his men will soon come after us in full force.”

  “What she did was justified, and everyone knows it,” Belloc replied. “And you don’t have to worry about them coming for us. We’re safe here. They wouldn’t dare to try something again for fear of public backlash. I already have a few newspapers interested in my story, if it ever came to that.”

  “I see,” Dalton said. “Well, regardless, I brought some protection for you, Inspector.”

  “Protection?”

  “Yes,” Dalton said, standing up and poking his head out into the hallway. “You can come in now.” He stepped back into the hospital room. “You told me to get the crew, so I did.”

  In walked seven officers, all veterans of the force, people whom Belloc had kept a close relationship with.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Belloc asked, taken by surprise.

  One of the officers stepped up. “Dalton filled us in on everything that happened. We couldn’t believe it the minute we heard it. There may be only seven of us here, but I know there are a lot more of us throughout the force, and we’re not going to just stand by while there are people out there getting away with breaking the law, regardless of what societies they belong to.”

  “You do know this goes all the way up to the top?”

  “We’re aware of that, and that just makes us angrier.”

  “I see. Well, it’s good to know there still are a few good men willing to stand up to these types of groups.”

  “I’m ready to help when you need it,” the officer said.

  “Oh, y’all don’t have to worry about that,” Posy interjected. “You see, Inspector Belloc has already declared the case solved, so y’all can go ahead and head home. Thanks for visiting, though.”

  “What?” the officer said, dumbfounded.

  “Pay no attention to her,” Belloc replied. “She hasn’t been given her daily meds yet.”

  “Oh,” the officer said. “Well, that explains a lot.”

  “What does that mean?” Posy snarled.

  “I...didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Posy turned to Belloc and lobbed her fat folder on to
p of his chest, making Belloc scream out in pain. “You might want to take a look at those, since, you know, we’re back on the case.”

  “I should call the nurse on you,” Belloc said.

  “For what? Abusing the elderly?”

  “You’ve certainly changed in the past twenty-four hours.”

  “For the better, I assume.”

  “You make too many assumptions.”

  “Everyone,” Dalton said. “What are we going to do about this? There’s still a murderer out there and a couple of girls just waiting to be attacked. We need to act fast.”

  “Well—” Belloc was suddenly interrupted by a loud voice out in the hall.

  “Miss!” a distraught nurse said. “You can’t go in there, miss!”

  To everyone’s surprise, a young girl came running into Belloc’s room. Immediately, the group of officers reached for their side arms.

  “No, wait!” Belloc said. “Ease off, officers. It’s just a girl.”

  The girl paused for a moment as she tried to control her breathing.

  “You’re Miss Lattimer, aren’t you?”

  An older lady walked in. “Yes, she is,” she said. “And I’m Mrs. Lattimer, her mother.”

  Harlow Lattimer rushed up to Belloc’s bed. “Inspector, I’m so glad you’re all right. I’ve been worried about you—actually, all of you guys, ever since your partner, Officer de San Michel, came to visit me at that party a few nights back.”

  “What’s the matter, dear girl?” Belloc said. “Why are you here?”

  “It’s about Frances and Catherine.”

  “Who?”

  “Frances Dupuys and Catherine Haralson; they’re my friends. They’ve disappeared.”

  “The last two girls,” Dalton said. “They’re gone?”

  “Oh, yes, the last two,” Belloc said. “Tell me what happened.”

  “They escaped,” Harlow replied. “I went over to their houses this morning to check up on them, and they weren’t there. Apparently they sneaked away in the middle of the night.”

  “With all that protection detail?” Belloc asked, amazed.

  “Are you surprised?” Harlow said. “Maybe it was their plan after all.”

  “Whose plan?”

  “Their parents’ plan. Maybe they knew the girls were going to the train station.”