Silas turned his head and gasped. The package was about as big as two normal-sized storage trunks, like one big treasure chest. “That’s for me?”
“Are you Silas?”
“The one and only, so I’m told.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Do you know who sent it?”
“Sure, I have the paperwork right here, just one second.” The man went into his tiny booth and searched through a pile of papers. “Ah, here we go.” His brow furrowed. “Oh dear, that’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”
“Well, it appears that you sent the package.”
“I sent the package?”
“Yes, you.”
“To myself?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Just let me see that,” Silas said, grabbing the paperwork. Sure enough, the return address was the same one that was written on the envelope he’d sent to Lucy, from a Silas in Japan to a Silas in America. Why would I do this? “Go ahead and have some of your men take the trunk outside. I’ll have a taxi come and retrieve it for me.”
“Very well.” The man signaled to his coworkers to help him move the trunk out of the docking garage.
Silas stood idly, tapping the note on his leg, trying to put all the pieces together about his former life. I wonder what’s in that thing. Better get it to Belloc’s as soon as possible. It might have some clues as to who I was. “Snow’s coming down hard,” he said to the man. “It’s going to be a cold night.” I hope Lucy’s doing okay.
He buttoned up his coat as he ran over to retrieve a taxi. The dockworkers waited for him to return.
***
Miles away from his deputy inspector, Belloc paced inside his home, studying Mr. Grant’s map carefully. He grabbed a bag full of multicolored marbles and began placing the marbles on the map, in and around the last two mansions, the ones belonging to the Haralsons and the Dupuyses.
He used blue marbles to indicate the number of guards that patrolled each mansion. “Now, Dalton, are you sure there are this many of them securing the perimeter?”
“Yes, I’m quite sure, Inspector,” Dalton said.
Belloc then used the red marbles to indicate possible infiltration routes in order to break in and retrieve the last two girls without getting caught. “What do you think? I mean, I’ll wait until Silas gets here to get his opinion, but from my experience, these are our best options.”
“I don’t think we have much choice,” Dalton replied, double-checking the routes. “They all carry the same amount of risk. Regardless of what route we take, we need to go in prepared to fight, in spite of how stealthy we are.”
“I understand. Though that might be a little hard for me.” He tapped his ailing leg.
“Are you sure you want to go with us? Silas and I will be more than happy to retrieve the girls ourselves.”
“No, I have to. I may be old, but I’m still an officer of the law, and it’s my duty to follow this through. If anything happens, I’ll be the first one to bear responsibility for everything. That is how it is.”
“If you insist.” Dalton was unsure of Belloc’s ability to carry out the plan.
“Now we just have to figure out when Mr. Factory will strike next. Both girls are holed up in their mansions with an incredible amount of security protecting the buildings. If Mr. Factory is able to get into one of these houses, I would suspect foul play on the parts of the parents and…the department.”
“I see. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we have to strike at two places at once.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, instead of just solely focusing on retrieving the girls, we’ll have one group go and search for the girls and then another group will confront the parents once the girls are safely secured away from the mansions. The only way to solve this case is to get the parents to admit to their involvement with the crimes, and if they’re not conspirators, then they should admit to us who the masterminds are. I know for sure the parents are quite aware of what’s going on. That’s the only way we can get to the true source of responsibility for these crimes. Saving the girls is our number-one priority, but bringing the perpetrators of the crime to justice should be just as important. If I can have both, I will try my hardest to make it happen.”
“Then that’s what we should strive for, nothing less. First we save the girls, and then we go after the people who are responsible for these crimes.”
“Dalton, I need you to go to the precinct and commandeer a few carriages.”
“Why so many?”
“I have a few people that we’re going to bring along with us. Throughout the years, I’ve been able to differentiate between the corrupt and the trustworthy, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve formed relationships and alliances with a few good men. We’ll bring them along with us. They’ve already been notified and have all agreed to assist us with this case out of loyalty, but most importantly, out of a yearning for justice. If we truly are going to solve this case, a lot of the top brass will be implicated along with the notorious Valentine Society. We need these officers’ help. You’ll go to the station and bring them to me along with the carriages. Understood?”
“Right away, Inspector.”
“Just let me go and retrieve the list of officers out of my safe, and then you can head on over to the precinct.” Belloc walked into his bedroom, hustling over to his bed, and knelt down. He grabbed at a large metal box hiding underneath a loose floorboard. He took a key out of his pocket and opened up the small safe. Inside, he found an envelope which had the names and contact information of all the loyal officers he’d befriended since he first started working for the Boston PD. On the envelope it read: The Crew.
He stood up and rushed out of his bedroom, but when he stepped inside his study, he quickly stuffed the envelope inside his coat pocket. “What are you doing here?”
In front of him was a tall, broad-shouldered officer. He had managed to break into Belloc’s home without making the slightest peep. “Well, we’ve decided to pay you a visit,” Clarkson replied.
“Where’s Officer Dalton?”
“He’s...being reprimanded at the moment.”
“You are aware of what the repercussions are for assaulting an officer?”
“Yes, I do, and I’m fine with it as long as it’s just me who’s aware of the assault, and no one else.” He smiled.
“I remember you. You’re the coward that struck my assistant.”
“Yes, I remember your pretty assistant quite well. A fine specimen of a lass. What I wouldn’t do to take her inside a quiet, private jail cell for a few hours.”
Belloc clenched his jaw. Instinctively, he reached for his cane, but it was suddenly taken away by a surprise guest. “You two.”
“So you remember us?” Mendel said, playing with Belloc’s cane.
His sister, Merle, strode in behind him. “Hello, Inspector.” After she stepped inside his study, a group of about five brutish cops entered as well.
“What’s all this?” Belloc backed away. “Why are you guys here?”
“We’re here to make you try to understand,” Mendel replied.
“Understand what?”
“You see, therein lies the problem. If you knew what you weren’t supposed to be doing, you would know what we were talking about. Or maybe you’re just playing dumb.”
Belloc took a few steps back and bumped into his desk, startling himself. “What is it that you want?”
“Calm down, Inspector,” Merle said. “We’re not going to do something that we would later regret. Killing an officer is always the last resort.”
“Why should I believe anything that you say?”
“Well, you really shouldn’t,” Mendel replied. “But the problem we have here is that you were told to stop investigating a certain group. So what did you do? Did you stop?” He asked this as if asking everyone in the room.
Merle and the othe
r officers shook their heads.
“You did not,” Mendel continued. “You didn’t do what you were ordered to do. No, you actually made it worse. The good captain told you to back off. He even gave you a fair warning. And how did you thank him? By slapping him in the face and spitting on his reputation. You should’ve just left things alone. It wasn’t any of your business to begin with. These people, Inspector, operate under a different code, a code in which you pissed all over. They’re going to handle it their own way, and from now on you will let them.”
He approached Belloc, inches away from his face. “Inspector, you’ve sadly gotten out of line, and you’ve also bent yourself out of shape. And, of course, we’re here to straighten you out, put you back together in a sense. But unfortunately for you, to put you back together we must first break you apart.”
Belloc’s eyes trembled, and he backed into one of his bookshelves.
“This cane of yours,” Mendel said. “This is good, solid wood. Did you ever realize when you bought this cane that one day it would be used to break all of your bones?”
“Please don’t.”
Mendel thought about it for a few seconds, contemplating the decision, torturing Belloc with the silent pause. “No, I can’t stop. I’m under orders, and I, unlike you, follow them.” Like a coiled cobra snapping at its prey, Mendel’s arm sprung out from his body, using the cane to brutally whack Belloc’s head. Instantly, the inspector fell onto the floor, knocked unconscious, blood dripping out from the side of his skull.
“Why did you do that for?” Merle asked. “Now he won’t feel anything.”
“He’ll feel it when he wakes up.”
“Does he have to wake up?”
“Merle, this order came from the top. Heed it.”
“What do we do now?” Merle asked.
Mendel turned to Clarkson and the rest of his men and threw the cane at the big brute.
“I’ll have that, thank you,” Clarkson said.
“Go to work on him,” Mendel ordered. “But remember, only his limbs. Leave the organs untouched.”
“If you say.” Clarkson made his way over to Belloc. “Nothing to say to me, old man? Not so tough, are you now?” He struck him hard on the leg. After giggling for a few seconds, he began to beat him continuously until the job was done.
While the officers were doing their business, Mendel and Merle scoured the study for any information Belloc had amassed regarding the Decamps case. Armed with a couple of large bags, they began stuffing them full of paperwork and files. They even stole the binder Silas had taken from Doctor Sabatini’s office. Overturning desks and bookshelves, they carelessly broke pictures and expensive glassware, and when they were done, they cut up Mr. Grant’s map to pieces, followed by knocking the table over on its side.
“That should do it,” Mendel said. He noticed the officers were still beating on the old inspector. “That’s enough. I’m sure you’ve done plenty of damage. Let’s go. We’re on a schedule.”
Clarkson spit on Belloc’s face and then threw his cane on top of his mangled body. “See you soon, Inspector. Too bad that pretty little lass of yours wasn’t here to get her own beating.”
After scouring the scene one last time, they finally left, all of them stepping on Dalton on their way out, who lay on the hallway floor, beaten unconscious. Snickering uncontrollably, the officers departed the scene.
Shortly after they had left, Dalton began to regain consciousness. Turning his head, he could see inside Belloc’s study, and to his horror, spotted the inspector’s mangled arm twitching. With all the strength he could muster up, he started crawling towards the study.
Once he reached it, he grabbed hold of the inspector’s police-issued telephone, desperately trying to contact an ambulance to come and tend to both his and the inspector’s serious wounds. After a moment of struggling to get in touch with an operator, he was put through to the local hospital. His words were breathy, and his tone was desperate, but Dalton managed to put the call in, and at last, help was on its way.
Hanging up the phone, he heard moans coming from behind the desk. Belloc was at last regaining consciousness, and the toll of the beating was slowly seeping into his soul. None of his major organs were hurt, but all of his limbs were broken, and the trauma of his injuries filled him up with immense pain. The more he opened his eyes, the louder he moaned.
Dalton turned his head, for out in the hallway there was a loud noise followed by a ruckus. After a tense second Silas stepped in, not noticing yet what had happened to the inside of Belloc’s home, for his focus was still on the men behind him who were having trouble lugging the large trunk down the hallway.
“Over here is where it needs to be,” Silas said as they entered the townhome. “Just leave it right outside the door. I still need to figure out where I can put it.” But then as he stepped further inside, it became clearer to him that something was off. His senses tripled in awareness, and his demeanor changed. He rushed into the study and found his friends on the floor, bruised and battered.
At first, he found it difficult to breathe out any words, shocked at the atrocity of all the blood that had smeared everywhere. He dove to Belloc’s side, and just by looking at his body, he could tell that his bones had been broken yet his center mass was left untouched. Belloc also had a serious wound to the head, but the bleeding had stopped.
He turned to Dalton, who had already sat up and was now leaning against a chair. “Who did this, Dalton? Do you remember?”
“Of course I remember those bastards.” Dalton struggled to breathe the words out. “It was a group of officers, a big, burly bunch. They were ordered around by some odd old couple. They sort of looked like twins.”
“I see.” Silas lowered his eyes and clenched his fists. He neared the inspector, observing his wounds. “How are you holding up, Inspector?”
“It hurts real bad. Argh!”
“I know it does. Try not to move.” He turned to Dalton. “Did you call for help?”
“Yes, I did. The ambulance should be here soon.”
“Good. Can you walk?”
“Yes.” Dalton stood up. “I think I can.”
“Go into the inspector’s bedroom, and in his night desk you’ll find a bottle of scotch inside the top drawer. Bring it to me.”
“Scotch?”
“Just do it.”
Dalton groaned as he walked into the bedroom, only to come out just a few seconds later, scotch in hand. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Silas grabbed the bottle and broke off the cap. “Here, Inspector, take a good gulp.”
“I can’t. I promised I would never do it again.”
“I think your wife would’ve understood. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted you to be in all of this pain. Take it.”
Belloc gave in and took down a gulp of the scotch, and then another.
“You’ll feel much better.” Silas gave the bottle to Dalton. “You need it as well.”
“You’re not kidding,” Dalton said as he grabbed it and chugged down a few gulps.
“Ah,” Belloc yelled out. “Whew! That’ll warm you up quite quickly.” The scotch livened his spirits, which allowed him to talk, though he was still in great pain.
“Dalton said it was the siblings that came in with a group. They did this?”
“Yes. We went too far with this case of ours. We were careless. There’s nothing we can do now.”
“I’m still in good shape, and so is Posy.”
“No, it’s too much for you to do alone, even if you have Posy’s help.”
“Don’t be so sure about that.”
“Silas, they took everything.” Belloc stopped to moan a bit. “They took our files, our paperwork, all our leads, and it looks like they also destroyed the map. All the evidence that we had is gone. They even took the files you discovered back in Andover. It’s all over now, Silas. Those girls are doomed. Maybe it’s better for us if we forget about all of this, as if it never happened.”<
br />
“I understand that you’re hurting right now and that the situation seems hopeless, but you must trust in me.”
“Speaking of you; what did you find out about the package? Who was it from?”
“Now is not the time for that, Inspector.”
“Just tell me. Talking is the only thing that’ll keep my mind off this pain, at least until the doctor arrives.”
“Well, unfortunately, I didn’t learn much, except for the fact that I knew I was coming to Boston, or at the least, I planned to come here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was the one that sent the package. I sent it to myself. I must’ve known I was going to end up here, so I sent it.”
“And why did you do that?”
“I have no clue.”
“So what’s in the package?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t opened it yet,” Silas replied as he turned to the large trunk. “It’s massive. I didn’t have time to open it at the station. I was going to do it here, but then I found you guys on the floor.”
“Oh my, it is quite large.” Belloc stretched his neck in order to see the trunk. “There’s a knife inside my desk. Use it to cut the bindings. Argh!”
“Do you want another shot?”
“Yes, yes!” Belloc hastily agreed.
Silas took the bottle and let him have a few swigs.
“Better. Ah. Yes, much better.” He asked for another shot.
“Easy now.”
“When you break all of your bones you can then tell me when and what to drink.”
“Okay, okay. Have at it.”
The inspector took another gulp of scotch. “Thank you,” Belloc breathed out. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Go open it!” Belloc said, in pain. “I’m not getting any younger.”
“All right, all right.” Silas stood up and went over to the trunk. Grabbing one of the handles, he used all of his strength to drag it across the main entrance and into the study. “Let’s see here.” Knife in hand, he cut all of the rope bindings near the four locks. He knelt in front of the trunk, and unclasping the four locks, he opened the case. What he saw in front of him made his eyes shine with wonder.
The Valentine Circle Page 26