Horace wasn’t the most handsome of men, but he was pleasantly cute and was on his way to becoming one of the youngest judges Boston had ever seen. He was perfect for her, so she thought at first, but there came a time when she finally realized that happiness wasn’t defined by status or ambition, but by simpler and more honest ideals, like love, honor, charity, and sacrifice.
But love was a big one.
It would’ve been nice if Horace loved everything about her, her faults and weaknesses, not just her beauty and potential prowess for bearing children of good stock. Horace never let Posy be herself or do the things that made her happy. He even made her take speech lessons so as to suppress that hideous, thick, Southern accent he despised when he first met her. Their relationship began to decline after a few years, but Posy willed herself to make it work. There was a time when she thought she could fall back in love with him, at least with the idea of him.
But then Silas came into the picture, and her heart began to do things that she never thought possible. For instance, it tended to leap out of her chest whenever Silas walked into a room. Her attraction to Silas was immediate and powerful, but she never let that show, not for one single minute. Well, she did her best to contain it. She might’ve faltered a little here and there, possibly ogling at him more than she should have.
And of course there was the baby, a forever reminder of her intended. How could she leave Horace now, with a child on its way? She feared not just for her future, but for the child’s as well. She didn’t know how much longer she could continue pretending to be happy with Horace. But in those times, it was difficult for a woman to separate herself from her unfortunate situation.
Yet Silas was a small glimmer of light at the end of a long tunnel. He was strange and socially awkward but devilishly handsome, and he would probably jump at the opportunity to get to know her better, regardless of her own problems. It’s not like he had any options. Oh, yes. Lucy.
She kept forgetting about her.
Her grip tightened as she thought about the young blonde. I mean, she’s so much younger than him. “Oh, stop,” she mumbled to herself. Now is not the time to think about that. Horace will be here any minute. Let’s not be here when he does.
Too late.
The door to Posy’s apartment creaked open. Posy lost her focus, frustrated that he suddenly showed up just a minute before she was about to end her practice and leave. Damn.
“You’re here,” Horace said.
“Where else would I be?”
“I thought maybe you’d stay at Belloc’s for a few nights, seeing how amicably we split up yesterday morning.”
Actually, I was just about to head on over there. “No, this is my home, so I like to stay in it once in a while. What are you doing back? You usually don’t come back until you’ve knocked down a couple dozen wine bottles with your lawyer friends, taking you at least a few days to recover.”
“Well, I just wanted to come back, hoping I’d find you here, and you are here. I...wanted to apologize about my behavior lately. There’s just been a lot of stress at work, and I...rarely get to see you.”
“Rarely see me? Why? Because of work?”
“Yes.”
“Mine or yours?”
“Well, yours, of course,” Horace replied incredulously.
“You could come home early as well. It doesn’t always have to be me.”
“You know I can’t. You know how important my work is.”
“Oh, I see,” Posy said, rubbing the edge of her sword across the floor. “Your work.”
“Don’t do that,” Horace said, his attention diverted. “You’ll ruin it.”
“I’m not worried. I have another sword.” She gave him a sarcastic smile.
“I meant the floor, obviously. What are you doing with that thing, anyway? How many women do you know who fence? Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t becoming of you to keep on with your silly infatuation? I told you to stop.”
Posy’s blood boiled. “You told me. And when did you start thinking that you could tell me what to do?” And because she was seething with anger, she let the unthinkable slip. “Y’all uppity men tend to think you own your wives like some old mangy dog you have chained to y’all’s bedroom post, expecting it to wait all day for y’all to come home, panting with joy at the very idea of seeing their master arrive from work.”
Horace cringed with horror. “Look what you’ve done now. You’ve let that poor man’s slang slip out of you.”
Posy raised her foil up to Horace’s chin. “That poor man’s slang is more English than that Irish-laced dribble you tend to fart out of your mouth.”
Horace was abhorred by her vulgarity. “Why are you acting like this?”
“It’s been a long time coming.”
“Well, you need to stop it and get yourself together. We need to make this work. We can start by being nicer to each other. Now, I’m sorry for what I said earlier. But we’ve made our plans, and we need to stick to them. I...don’t want to lose you, Posy. You know I love you. I want you as my wife. And if you think I need to care more about you, then fine. I’m willing to put more focus on you and less on me. I’m willing to work things out. Are you?”
I don’t know. “Well, I can’t really think about it now. I’m too mad at you.” She lowered her sword.
“So when?”
“I—” There was a knock at the door. Posy sighed with relief.
Horace opened the door. “Inspector?”
“Hello there, Horace.”
“What a nice surprise. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“I just needed to see Posy. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Do you really need her, Inspector? We were just thinking about taking time off work so we could spend some time together.”
Belloc spotted Posy shaking her head no. “Well, I desperately need her. We must do our work if we are to catch this killer. Time is of the essence.”
“Right,” Horace replied, disapproving of his comment. “Time is always of the essence.”
Posy shrieked. Both Belloc and Horace instantly turned around. They saw Silas sitting on the windowsill.
“What did I miss?” Silas sat there, watching them stare at him with great wonder.
“Really, Silas?” Posy said.
Horace just sighed and grabbed his coat. “Fine. You three do what you have to do. I guess I’ll go back to my...lawyer friends…and knock down some more bottles.” He left, letting the door slam behind him.
“Was it something I did?” Silas asked.
Posy slapped him on the arm with her foil.
“Ouch!” Then Silas realized what hit him. “Is that yours? Do you fence?”
“I try to practice whenever I can. Why? What’s it to you?”
Silas’s eyes lit up. “That’s great!” was his only reaction, which caused Posy to be taken aback. “How long have you been doing it?”
“Ever since I was a child. My father taught me in secret.”
“Secret?”
“Yes. Why is that news to you? How many women do you know that fence?”
Silas thought for a moment. “I don’t know of any here, but I know, just from what I learned of my former self, that the women in the Japanese villages were very efficient with a number of weapons. The more the better.”
“Hmm. I forgot you weren’t from around here.”
Silas was put off by her remark.
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” she hastened to say. “I just meant that you’re a product of a foreign land. You’re used to different customs and laws.”
Silas smiled. “You would’ve fit in great where I came from. You would’ve been respected and honored. If you’re as good as I think you are with that sword, you would’ve been a top blade master. I’m sure of it.”
Posy was left speechless.
“So, since you’re so good with that sword, can you show me how to do it? I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“Well,
I can’t just show you real quick.”
“I’m not expecting to become a fencing master in a few minutes,” Silas quipped. “Just show me something. Make me smile.”
Posy rolled her eyes. She stepped up to him. “Look out,” she warned, to which Silas responded by moving aside. “First, you need the right stance.” She showed him. “Have your front foot pointing forward and your back foot at a ninety-degree angle to the front foot.”
“That’s a bit awkward.”
“Do you want to learn or not?”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“Bend your knees and keep your lead arm bent. Put the other behind you for balance. First, learn how to lunge. The arm must be fully extended before you move, and do so only with the front foot.” She showed him with little effort and fault. “You try it.”
Silas grabbed hold of the foil and took his stance. He looked so clumsy.
“You’re going to take a lot of work.”
“Don’t make fun of me, just teach me.”
“When did you get so sensitive all of a sudden?” She came closer to him and took hold of his arm and leg. “Here, like this.” She moved his arm. “Hold this up.” He let it dip. “No, hold it up.” She waited impatiently. “There, good. Now lunge.”
Silas awkwardly moved his foot and arm forward without any grace whatsoever. It was as if someone had bumped into him from the back. It was quite messy.
“Ugh,” Posy remarked.
“Ugh is quite right,” Belloc added.
“I don’t think you’re cut out for this,” Posy said.
“Don’t give up on me just yet,” Silas said sincerely.
“I’m just kidding, Silas. I’m sorry. We can work on it some more until you get better.” They looked into each other’s eyes. Posy instantly began feeling a rush of warmness seeping down her chest and into her tummy. She snapped out of it and took the foil out of his hand. “Anyway, that’s it for now. At least we know this, that whatever you did in your former life, it didn’t require a blade.” She started putting the blade away.
Her slight insult left a bad taste in Silas’s mouth. What does she know? Something inside of his spirit told him that he was skilled in many forms of battle. Silas looked at Belloc, and he got a sudden urge to try something out. “Inspector? May I see your cane for a moment?”
“My cane? What on earth for?”
“I just have this urge. I won’t damage it.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I have lots of them. Here you go.”
Silas took the stick and looked it over, rubbing it up and down slowly. “This is good wood.” He turned to Posy. “Hold on. Don’t put that away just yet.”
“Why not?”
“I want to try one thing. Stand there in front of me and take your stance, as if you were about to lunge at me.”
“Why?”
“Just humor me, please.”
“Fine,” Posy said, whining as she took the foil back out of its covers. She then moved up to Silas and took her stance. “Ready when you are.”
Silas took the cane and closed his eyes.
“What are you doing? Are you going to meditate the sword out of my hand?”
“Charming. Just wait.” Silas let the feeling of something familiar take over his body. He took a stance, just like Posy’s but not as wide and awkward. He raised the cane, holding it like it was a blade, bending his arm, copying Posy’s form. But Silas had both hands on his weapon instead of just one, plus his legs weren’t bent, unlike Posy. He put the tip of the cane right next to Posy’s foil.
“That’s a bit close, don’t you think?” Posy said. “It might get you hurt. I can snap into you in less than a second.”
“Yes, but you’ll need your sword to do any type of harm.” And with a flick of a wrist, Silas twitched his hands, using the tip of the cane to slap her foil to the side, and within a tenth of a second, he was inches away from Posy’s face, holding his cane right on top of her head. With a real blade, one swift cut, and he would’ve split her in two. “Yes, you’re quick, you’re fast, but you were trained to duel, and I was trained to kill.” He stepped back and lobbed the cane at Belloc, who caught it with ease.
Posy slowly lowered her foil, instantly enamored with Silas’s fighting style. “Where did that come from?”
“From a foreign land,” Silas replied with a devilish smirk.
Belloc grinned as well. “That’s enough play for now. We need to get back to my office to go over our case.” He turned to Silas. “How did it go yesterday? Did you find out anything about the boy?”
“He’s dead.”
“What?”
“He died just recently. It had to do with something with his heart, so they say. He was buried quickly, and I’m pretty certain there wasn’t an autopsy performed.”
“So they got to him,” Belloc said.
“Yes, but who’s they?” Posy chimed in. “Did you run into any trouble?”
Silas thought about the question for a second, remembering how he’d left the manager of the orphanage hanging from a second-story fire escape, her knickers showing. “Nope, no trouble at all.” Silas smiled.
“What’s got you all excited?” Posy asked.
“Oh, just life in general.”
“Your vagueness is fascinating,” Posy replied.
Silas smiled again and then giggled.
“Right,” Posy continued. “Let’s hurry up and make our way downstairs. You first.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” Silas said as he curtsied.
Posy almost backhanded him with her forearm.
“Silas?” Belloc said. “What about Lucy?”
Posy’s ears perked up, and she held her breath.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to talk to her. She was busy.”
Posy let out her breath, quite loudly. Silas and Belloc both gave her an odd look. “What?” She scoffed while shooing them out the door. “Get a move on it. Quickly now.”
Belloc passed her. “I use a cane, you know.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Posy retorted.
They made their way downstairs and out of the building. Once they stepped outside, it was apparent that the day had turned sour, as a group of gray clouds covered the sky. Thick waves of snow showered the town, and a harsh winter wind winded itself in and out the streets. As the group walked towards the curb, they saw a police carriage pull up next to theirs. An officer stepped out and ran up to Belloc. He was one of the inspector’s most trusted confidants. Tall with a lean frame and almond-colored hair, Officer Dalton Lahey approached Belloc, carrying a backpack in his hand.
“Inspector Belloc?” Dalton said. “I’ve been looking for you. The office told me you were here.”
“What is it, Officer Lahey?”
“I have bad news.”
“What bad news?” Posy asked, interrupting Belloc.
“One of the girls, Miss Victoria Dailey, was found dead inside an abandoned school.”
“What?” Silas said, reacting to the news.
“Damn it,” Belloc said. “This killer is getting to the girls quicker than we can manage. What school was it, Dalton?”
“The name of the school is Saint Michael the Archangel.”
“I know that school,” Posy remarked. “Yes, it was abandoned a couple of years ago.”
“Abandoned?” Silas asked. “What on earth was Miss Dailey doing in there?”
“Maybe she was hiding from someone, the killer?” Posy replied.
“Who knows, but I managed to sneak inside and take a look at the scene before the army of officers arrived. I grabbed this. I think it was her book bag.” Dalton handed the bag over to Belloc.
“Oh, I see.” Belloc grabbed the bag and inspected it. He found some money, makeup, and tissues. Also inside the bag was a large strip of tape stuck to the inner lining. On the tape were the words: The Valentine Circle.
“Interesting,” Silas said. “I wonder what that is.”
“What else can you
tell me about the scene?” Belloc continued with Dalton.
“Well, it seemed that the girl had her throat cut.
“Her throat cut?” Silas replied. “Are you sure? These girls aren’t supposed to be harmed.”
“That might be true, but from what I could tell, the girl put up a good fight. I can only conclude that the killer wasn’t able to restrain her in order to perform the c-section on her. The last resort was to kill the mother in order for the baby to die as well.”
“That’s horrible,” Posy said.
“And did the baby die?” Belloc asked
Dalton nodded.
“Oh dear,” Belloc dropped his shoulders. “Well, I suggest we get there fast and try to scour the scene as much as we can.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Dalton countered.
“What do you mean, lad?”
“I mean that they won’t let you in.”
“Who’s they?” Silas asked.
“Captain O’Hara,” Dalton replied.
“And why exactly won’t he let me in? I’m the inspector on this case.”
“I don’t have all the answers, but I do know one thing,” Dalton said.
“What’s that?”
“They’re coming for you. Right now.”
“Coming for me?” Belloc said with disbelief.
“The captain wants to talk to you. He’s coming with some of his men.”
“Why is the top brass so interested in all of this?” Silas interjected. “What do they care about the Valentine Society?”
Belloc rubbed his fingers. “Because the society lines the department’s pockets.”
“Yes, but not everyone in the department is corrupt.”
“No, not in the least bit,” Belloc continued. “I would suspect that most of the officers in the department are honest and hard-working public servants, but that doesn’t matter. All you need is to control the puppeteers, and all their special marionettes will do their bidding.”
“I see,” Silas said. “The top brass get fat while the rest starve. Do you know who these puppeteers are? These manipulators?”
“I do, but I won’t tell you. Information like that can put a nice bullseye on your head. It’s better if you didn’t know. Regardless, it’s always best to operate under the radar, but with this case, it seems that it yearns to make a mockery out of the whole department. That’s why the top brass wants to keep it secret—to wipe it from existence.”
The Valentine Circle Page 16