Silas stuck his nose out of the carriage. “I’ve never seen a fancier crowd.” He had good reason to say this, for the families that had come out of their private abodes to pay respect to the Decamps girl were all decked out in the finest of clothes—well, as much as you can get dressed up for a funeral.
“These people are from a different world,” Belloc said. “They live and operate by their own rules. They are resistant to workings of the law. We should keep our guards up, our noses low to the ground, and our footprints as quiet as those of a little bird’s.”
Silas smiled.
“I figured that would put you at ease, Silas,” Belloc continued. “I think I’m starting to figure you out.”
“Well, when you do, please be kind enough to let me know,” Silas quipped as he stepped out of the carriage.
Belloc and Posy followed Silas. Their carriage departed, leaving them exposed. Their dark-blue, weathered duty clothes and coats didn’t necessarily help them blend in with the civilian crowd.
“This is going to be fun,” Posy added. “Look at all these people already crying. If I had a nickel for every sincere tear that these people shed, I’d be broke.”
“So...nothing would change, then?” Silas grinned at her.
“Why don’t you go do your thing, rookie?”
Silas turned away.
“No, wait.” Posy grabbed his arm, smiling. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“My fiancé.”
Silas stood by as he watched a slim, dashing man step up to them. He was about as tall as Posy, with medium brown hair and an athletic build. There was a bit of stubble on his face, perfectly groomed. His eyes were similar to Silas’s, dark brown and intense.
“This is Horace,” Posy said to Silas. “Horace, this is Silas, our new rookie. He helps us out on all the necessary...grunt work. He’s pretty old to be at the bottom of the totem pole, but then again, someone has to be at the bottom.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Horace said, extending his hand. “Posy hasn’t really mentioned you. Is this your first day?”
So far, Silas wasn’t enjoying the conversation. “Second.”
“Oh, close enough. How much has she told you about me?”
“Nothing. Well, except for the fact that she doesn’t like to wear her ring.”
Posy gave him a stern look. Horace arched his brows.
“To crime scenes,” Silas added. “And I don’t blame her. It’s such a nice ring.”
“Right, well,” Belloc said. “It’s good to see you, Horace. You have to tell me about the plans for the wedding.” He grabbed Horace by the arm. “Let’s find our seats.” He then turned to Silas. “Officer de San Michel, you might want to get a look around.”
“Of course, Inspector,” Silas said as he turned away, but not before catching Posy’s look of disgust. He came up close to her. “Are you all right?”
“That was a bit nasty,” Posy said, referring to his comment about the ring.
“I got caught up in the moment. I just returned what you gave me, an eye for an eye.”
“A knee for a knee.” Posy smacked her knee against his, making him silently yelp. “I had frost on my nose. My NOSE.” She turned away and left to join the others.
Silas held his tongue, for he did genuinely feel bad for leaving Posy alone with the window wide open. He observed the crowd in front of him, watching the people gather in small groups, conversing with each other and no doubt gossiping about the other groups standing next to theirs.
Fascinating.
One of the groups in particular seemed familiar to him. The Decamps. But who are those two hanging out with them? The two he referred to were siblings. One was a man, and the other, a woman. They both wore navy blue overcoats and had long, straight hair, making it difficult for Silas to tell them apart. Yet what was most intriguing about the two was the fact that they were mature in age, this being apparent by the shine of their slick gray manes. But he didn’t let that fool him; they both looked athletic and rough, possibly civil war vets. Strange crew, Mr. Decamps.
Silas searched around the area, trying to figure out the best way to blend in. His dark overcoat kept his uniform hidden, and his top hat cast a shadow across his eyes. He took off his badge and did his best to cover his revolver. Not the best disguise, but it’ll do.
Silas placed himself in the middle of a few small groups in order to listen in on their conversations. But the people around him were experts in keeping their gossip quiet, and they often spoke in jargon, as if only the privileged were able to understand their mischievous discussions.
I need to get closer. He stepped up to one of the groups, but like a herd of prey catching on to a lurking predator, they all turned their heads, simultaneously taking a few steps away from him.
Damn. It’s like some type of instinct they grew up with. I need to figure something out.
He walked up to a little brother and sister who were fussing with each other. “Hi there.” Silas knelt down in front of the little boy and girl. He noticed the little girl had a few tears running down her face. “What’s the matter?” She didn’t say anything, but Silas quickly realized her problem. “You have a small cut on your finger. How did that happen?” The little girl didn’t say a word but just kept fussing.
Silas reached for a handkerchief in his pocket and tore off a long, thin piece. He grabbed her hand gently and soaked up the small amount of blood that seeped out of her cut. He then took his thumb and applied pressure. Next, he took some of the fresh fallen snow and wiped the cut clean, following by wrapping the thin stretch of cloth around her finger tightly and securely. “There you go. It’ll be okay.”
Noticing her children had stepped away, their mother turned around, finding them talking with Silas. Instantly, she stepped up to them.
Silas stood up, hastily acting to diffuse the situation. “Is this your daughter?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Your daughter has a cut on her finger. I cleaned and bandaged the wound, but it needs some washing with soap and water when you get home. I’m a doctor at Boston City Hospital, Doctor de San Michel.” He held out his hand.
“Oh,” the woman said, looking at her daughter, who now sported a smile on her face. “Thank you, Doctor.” She shook his hand.
“I...arrived late for the service. I can’t seem to find my friends. That’s why I’m lingering around by myself. I’m sorry if it seemed strange for me to be lurking around.”
“Oh no. Of course not, Doctor. I appreciate you tending to my child.”
“Are these your friends?” Silas pointed towards her group. “I don’t know much of anyone here, and I’m always on the prowl for potential patients, for house calls and such.”
“Oh, right. I’ll introduce you.” She waved for him to step inside their group, and after a second, she properly introduced him.
“So, how do you know the Decamps?” one man in the group said.
“I...tutored their daughter, Claudia.”
“Oh, yes, I heard about her difficulties with the natural sciences.”
“Right,” Silas said, playing along. “She was just beginning to understand the sciences. Poor girl.”
“Yes, it’s a shame.”
“Did you tutor any of the others?” another woman said, this one short and buxomly.
Silas thought for a quick second. The others? “I didn’t really have a chance. I’m quite new to this area, plus my workload at BCH is insurmountable.”
“I see, of course.”
“But soon, I hope to be able to tutor...the others,” Silas said, carefully fishing for information.
“I’m afraid it’ll be too late by then,” the man said.
His wife nudged him with a quick jab to the ribs, frustrating him. “What Mr. Anderson meant to say was that once the girls have their babies, they’ll have little time for academics.”
“Babies?” Silas replied.
“Yes. You are aware th
at they’re all pregnant?”
“Of course, I...tended to a few of them,” Silas said, squarely lying. “But I guess you’re right. They wouldn’t have much time.”
“Oh, looks like the priest is about to begin,” the man said. “Would you like to come sit with us, Doctor?”
“Well, actually, I think I just spotted my friends.”
“Oh, very well, then.”
“It was a pleasure. Thank you all for the pleasantries.” Silas shook the man’s hand.
“Of course,” he said. “Hopefully we’ll meet again.”
“I’m sure of it. Good day.” Silas tipped his top hat to them before turning around and walking away. How the heck did I learn to talk like that?
Silas scurried over to where Belloc and Posy were sitting, but as he neared them, his heart began to rock against his chest. Sitting next to Belloc was Lucy. Belloc had invited her family to sit with him, and there was an empty chair next to Lucy, possibly for Silas to sit in so he could chat her up and learn her secrets. Oh, but what secrets did she really know?
Time moved like molasses. The closer he got to the group, the heavier his feet became, like trying to move blocks of concrete with his legs. What was he going to say? What would she say? Did she know who he was, who he’d been? But better yet, thinking about the visions he’d had in the past week—did he want to find out about his past?
Alas, he reached them. It was time to face his past, and Lucy was that one link, the one and only lead he had. Silas stood idly, gazing at Lucy’s lustrous blonde mane before tapping Belloc on the shoulder. Seeing Belloc turn around, Lucy turned her head as well, and Silas’s heart soared.
Belloc stood up. “Silas? You’re back. Wonderful.” He motioned for the Reillys to stand up. “Let me introduce you. Here we have Mr. and Mrs. Reilly.”
Silas nodded to them.
“And this is—”
“Lucy,” Silas whispered, his eyes frozen on hers.
“Exactly,” Belloc said, noticing Silas acting oddly.
Silas stood motionless, waiting for Lucy to make the first move, or at least say the first word. Who would speak first? Who would say “It’s you!” Lucy looked Silas over, studying him, but after an awkward moment, Silas realized that something was wrong. His reunion with Lucy wasn’t going as he’d envisioned it.
“How do you do?” Lucy said, extending her hand to him. “A pleasure to meet you.”
What? Silas remained silent.
Posy arched her eyebrow, noticing Silas’s nervous disposition.
Finally, after letting Lucy’s hand hang in the cold air for a few seconds, Silas quickly grabbed it and shook it. “I’m sorry. Forgive me if I was acting a little strange. I thought I knew you from somewhere. It’s nice to meet you as well.”
Belloc and Posy looked at each other.
Lucy smiled. “Where would you know me from?”
Well, dear girl, that’s the million-dollar question. “Um, I just imagined I’d seen you somewhere. You remind me of someone.”
“A former love, perhaps?” Posy added for fun.
Silas angled his face at her. “Perhaps.”
Posy kept quiet, realizing that whatever Lucy reminded him of, she definitely made Silas nervous. Why did she feel so jealous all of a sudden? She crossed her arms and inched up closer to Horace.
“Well, if I knew you, I would’ve remembered,” Lucy said. “I have a good memory.” She smiled at him.
He died a little. It was obvious that he cared for Lucy, but if she didn’t know him, how could he care for her so much? And what about his vision, the one where he’s hanging on to Lucy as she’s slipping away? An illusion, perhaps?
“Come on, everyone,” Belloc said. “Let’s take our seats. Silas, you sit between me and Lucy.” After Silas reluctantly sat down on the snow-covered chair, Belloc whispered in his ear, “Hear anything interesting?”
“Um,” Silas blurted out, still struggling to come back to his senses. “Yes, I found something. I walked around for a while, trying to listen in to everyone’s conversations, but they were mostly hush-hush. Their gossip was all in whispers, and they used their own jargon. These people and their groups—they’re truly remarkable.”
“And?”
“And...I managed to get inside one of their circles. I didn’t get much, but what I did get was quite startling. When I spoke of Claudia Decamps, one woman in the group spoke of the others.”
“The others? And who are they?”
“Apparently, Claudia might’ve been part of her own circle of friends her age. And if I understood the woman’s comment correctly, a good deal of her friends are expecting, just like Claudia was.”
Belloc’s eyes widened in shock. “Pregnant? All of them?”
“From what I understood.”
“Well, it makes sense now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spoke with the Reillys. If you notice, Darcy is not here.”
“Darcy? Oh, Lucy’s sister.”
“Yes, she’s not here. She’s at home. Her parents told me she doesn’t feel well, but Lucy, after some careful interrogation, revealed to me that Darcy’s thirty weeks with child.”
“Darcy is expecting as well? What is it with these girls?”
“It can’t be just a coincidence.”
“Wait, Lucy said Darcy is in her thirtieth week?” Silas remarked, thinking. “So was Claudia Decamps.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you think Darcy could be in danger?”
“That’s why we need to go straight to the Reilly mansion and question Darcy once we’re done here. Then we can put her under our protection for the time being.”
“We need to find out how far along the other girls are as well.”
“Yes, but who are these other girls?”
Silas just shook his head. “What’s going on with these people? And why are their daughters all pregnant?”
“I think the most important question is why was Claudia attacked?”
“It was as if it was done out of anger.”
“That’s what’s most troubling,” Belloc said, shaking his head. “Regardless, for now, try to get cozy with Lucy. See if you can learn anything else about these girls.”
“Um...right...of course—Lucy.”
Belloc turned away in order to whisper into Posy’s ear.
Silas squirmed in his seat, not knowing how he was going to cozy up to Lucy, especially if just looking at her made his blood warm and his voice tremble. He turned his glance towards her, and she instantly locked eyes with him. All he could do was smile. She did the same, returning the awkwardness he’d dished out to her. He looked away.
How am I going to do this? He sighed and turned to her once more. “So, how well did you know Claudia?”
“Not well at all. It was Darcy, my sister, who was good friends with her. I’d see Claudia at my house once in a while. She was such a sweet girl. I can’t believe this happened to her.”
“I understand.” Right, keep going. “Um, and you?” he continued. “Have you lived here all of your life?”
“I have. I was born and raised here.”
“Oh… I see. And what is it that you do? I mean, where do you work—if you work, that is?”
“I don’t work as much as I should. I’m a musician, so I try to get as much work as I can, whatever little there is of it.”
“A musician? What do you play?”
“The violin.”
Silas gave her a sincere smile. “I’ve always loved the violin.”
Lucy blushed. But then she saw something in Silas’s eyes that made her fidget in her seat.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, not knowing why she felt so weird all of a sudden.
“Well...so...and you went to school to learn music, I assume?” Silas said as he kept prodding.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Here in Boston, at BU?”
“No, not here. I couldn’
t really find what I wanted here.”
“So where did you go?”
“Abroad.”
Silas’s face tightened as he clenched his jaw. “Abroad?” He hesitated. “Where abroad?”
“Does it matter? You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Try me. You never know what sort of things I’ve learned throughout my life.” Neither do I, for that matter.
“Well, against the advice of my parents, I went to—”
And out of the blue, there came a strong, wintry breeze, flapping against Lucy’s coat, forcing her to drop her memorial program on the ground. Silas bent over to grab it. “Here you go.” He handed it to her. “That breeze came out of nowhere. My face feels like it’s about to freeze and fall off any second now.”
Lucy began to laugh, and Silas knew right then that he’d always loved the sound of her laughter. She’d wrinkle her nose and close her eyes. Beautiful.
Then another breeze came upon them, and Lucy lifted up her coat lapels to cover her face.
“Excellent idea.” Silas took his own coat lapels and pulled them up, covering most of his face while only exposing his eyes.
And that’s when it happened.
Lucy’s face turned white, as if she’d just seen a ghost. Her eyes quivered, and Silas could see her chest undulating with a raw power, as if her heart pushed against her skin. Something struck like lightning inside Lucy’s head, finally recognizing the man sitting beside her.
When she began to cower away from him, Silas knew it was time for him to go so as to not cause a scene. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but that was not the time. He turned to Belloc. “I feel a bit nauseous,” he said, slowly getting up. “I’ll be right back.” Silas stood up, keeping his gaze away from Lucy’s, and gently retreated away from the group.
Belloc watched him go and then turned to Lucy, who sat there in a bit of shock, her eyes lowered, her breathing accelerated.
Posy too glanced at Lucy, observing a number of emotions painted across the young girl’s face. “What was that all about?”
“I haven’t the faintest clue.”
Silas zigzagged through the group of people that weren’t able to find seats, until he stopped to watch Mr. Decamps get up from his chair, making his way back towards a group of trees. He watched him pull away from his daughter’s memorial service because of some discomfort, seemingly shedding false tears as he wiped them away with his handkerchief.
The Valentine Circle Page 7