The Valentine Circle

by Reinaldo DelValle

  “But you have to understand,” Silas pleaded with the Haralsons. “These men here are conspiring with the man who’s responsible for the deaths of Miss Decamps and Miss Dailey. You don’t really believe them, do you?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Mrs. Haralson said. “He’s the one! He’s the killer!”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you!” the father said. “Dr. Weiser has been my daughter’s doctor since the beginning of the pregnancy, so he can’t possibly be the killer. You’re the one. Just like Mr. Decamps told us. I should’ve listened to him. But now we’ve caught you, and you’re going to have to answer for your crimes.”

  “I’ve committed no crime. I have plenty of witnesses and alibis. You’re making a big mistake. If this man here is your daughter’s doctor, then why did he bring with him a bag full of surgical tools?”

  “What bag do you speak of?” Mendel asked, pretending to not know what he was talking about.

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You know which bag. You carried it in here.” He turned to the parents. “Did you even realize what he was carrying inside the bags when he entered your house?”

  “Dr. Weiser didn’t bring any bags with him,” Mr. Haralson said. “You, sir, have lost your mind.”

  “What? But you saw him carrying two bags when he entered your home. Are you blind?”

  “I saw nothing as to what you’re referring to.”

  Silas began backing up. Damn, they’re all in this together.

  “Don’t you move,” Clarkson demanded. “I’m going to count ‘til three, and then I’ll have my men shoot you down.”

  Unexpectedly, Merle stepped inside the bedroom.

  “Hello there, sister,” Mendel said. “What have you brought us?”

  “I found this in that man’s carriage,” Merle replied. “When I heard what was going on inside this room, I went outside to see if I could spot anything suspicious, and I found his carriage parked about fifty yards from ours. I rushed over to inspect it, and I found this bag inside.” She raised a large black bag up so everyone could see; it was the same one Mendel had brought in with him. She then took it and dumped the contents on top of Miss Haralson’s bed. Out came a slew of surgical tools and harsh-looking knives.

  “You see!” Mr. Haralson said. “It’s you. You’re the killer. You were breaking in here to kill my daughter, but not before killing Dr. Weiser so he wouldn’t know who you were.”

  “That’s not true at all,” Silas said. I can’t believe it. They set me up!

  “Please don’t let him hurt me, Father,” Catherine pleaded.

  “Come here, dear,” Mrs. Haralson said.

  Catherine rushed out of her covers and hurried to take shelter behind her parents.

  Silas looked around him, searching for the best way to get out of his situation, but to his dismay, there wasn’t one.

  “I would certainly not think about trying to escape,” Clarkson said. “You won’t get very far with a handful of holes in your stomach. This is the last time I’ll say this. Drop the weapon on the floor.”

  Exhausted and out of options, Silas did what he was told and laid the weapon down by his feet and kicked it over to them.

  “Open your coat,” Clarkson said.

  Silas opened his coat and revealed his other kama along with his revolver.

  “I’ll need those as well.”

  Silas reached for them.

  “Slowly.”

  He took them out one by one and set them aside. Clarkson ordered one of his officers to grab the weapons. The officer nervously approached Silas and quickly reached for his weapons, confiscating them.

  “Put the cuffs on him,” Clarkson said, signaling for two of his men to approach Silas.

  Two officers stepped up.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” one officer said.

  Silas was reluctant to do it.

  “Do it now!” the other officer chimed in.

  Finally, Silas obeyed and put his hands behind his back. The officers rushed to put cuffs on him and then swiftly patted him down, searching for anything else that he might’ve had with him.

  “He’s clean.”

  “Good,” Clarkson said, approaching Silas. “Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a murderer. I’m certainly going to enjoy putting you in a nice dark cell.”

  “Just how do you think you’re going to get away with this? I’m an inspector.”

  “You are what we say you are. And what we say goes, or did you not figure that out already?”

  “Look here,” Merle said. “There’s something else inside this bag.” She reached for it and pulled the mysterious object out. “It’s wrapped up in a shirt.”

  Wait, is that what I think it is?

  Merle opened the shirt up and found a bloody knife.

  Damn. It is.

  “What is this?” Merle said. “I wonder what this was used for.” She looked at Silas as if she knew exactly what it was used for; it was the weapon that killed Dr. Sabatini. “We’ll certainly have to take a closer look at this back at the precinct.”

  “You set me up,” Silas said. “All of you!”

  As a response to his outcry, Clarkson decked Silas squarely in the jaw, knocking him down, forcing some blood to spurt out of his mouth. “I’ve had about enough of you.” He turned to his men. “Get him up and take him to the carriage. We’ll book him as soon as we can. O’Hara is going to be very pleased.”

  The rest of the officers laughed as they grabbed Silas by the arms and hauled him out of the room and down the stairs.

  Once he was out of the room, Mendel nodded to Mr. Haralson. “Thanks for the help.”

  Mr. Haralson nodded back.

  “What does he mean, Francis?” Mrs. Haralson asked.

  “Nothing, dear. Go and take Catherine to our room. Get her some water and maybe something to eat.”

  His wife didn’t move.

  “Go on now,” he coaxed.

  She left without saying a word.

  “That went easier than expected,” Mendel said. “Looks like I overestimated the deputy inspector’s prowess.”

  “I told you, brother,” Merle remarked, “but you never listen.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not looking to start now.”

  She snarled at him.

  “What do we do with the evidence?” Officer Clarkson asked.

  “Take his revolver and those strange blades back to the precinct,” Mendel said.

  “And the bag?” Clarkson inquired.

  “The bag we leave here.”

  “For what?”

  “Take a guess, you idiot,” Merle interjected.

  “Oh, right.”

  “That took a lot of effort, didn’t it?”

  Clarkson gave Merle a dirty look before leaving the room.

  “We’re almost done,” Mendel said to his sister. “The circle is almost complete, and now that we have that nuisance of an officer locked up, there’ll be no one to stop the Society from seeing its plan to the end.”

  “What about the girl? That assistant of Belloc’s? The pretty one?”

  “Really? Worry about a girl? And why would we worry about a skinny whore like her?”

  She stepped up to him, put off by his sexist remarks. “I find that a bit insulting.”

  “Well, don’t. You know you’re one of a kind, sister. I’ve always told you so. Not every woman is as powerful as you.”

  “Don’t forget it.”

  “How can I, when you remind me of it every five seconds?”

  “Let’s just hurry up and go. The house has to be calmed down enough for Mr. F. to work his magic.”

  “I’m waiting on you, sister,” Mendel said, following Merle out of the room, but before he shut the door, he gave the room one last look. He shook his head with sympathy. “Poor girl. She really has no idea what’s coming for her.”

  ***

  It was nearing six o’clock in the afternoon as Lucy walked the streets of d
owntown Boston. She stomped her fancy boots on the hard pavement, not wanting to be late for her first interview. Underneath her large overcoat, her nicely pressed suit-dress flowed with the winter wind. The sun in the sky began its descent downwards, and the purple horizon showed hints of orange and black. And though she was all alone, Lucy felt safe strolling down the busy streets, zigzagging within the crowd.

  Anxious to get to the taxidermy shop, she pulled out a small map with directions that she’d drawn up for herself. Realizing where she needed to go, she reluctantly turned the corner into a vacant street. At first, she wasn’t scared, for she still walked among groups of people, but these groups had dwindled in numbers, with only a few men and women passing by her. Plus, who knew what type of people they were, always peeking at her from underneath their big hats, with their beady eyes and frozen expressions.

  Wary of running late, Lucy picked up her pace, becoming more frantic by the second. Once she reached the end of the street, she took out her map and held it up, noticing a discrepancy. She stood at a crossroad, split into two paths, one going to the right and the other to the left. Yet, on the map she’d copied, it only showed the road veering off to the right. She turned towards that road, evaluating its complexity. It seemed that the road to the right led back to the main street and then circled around three more blocks before even turning back towards the direction where she needed to go.

  Seems like a waste of time.

  She turned towards the road on the left and saw that it was a single stretch of road, almost like an alleyway, dark and a bit dirty, but one that seemed like it led straight towards the taxidermy shop, seemingly a shortcut. She looked at her watch. I’m running late.

  Making a decision, she turned the corner and proceeded down the road to her left. As she walked, she soon realized that after about fifty feet into the dark alleyway, she was the only one traveling that road. The buildings encompassing the alley grew taller by the second, drowning out the sun and setting up the surrounding space with pockets of dark shadows. Her heart thumped against her chest, and even though it was freezing cold outside, she took her gloves off, as her hands were beginning to sweat.

  The more steps she took into that dark alley, the more the shadows wiggled and moved. It could’ve been just her imagination, but Lucy didn’t know for sure, since it was hard for her to see anything behind the ominous shadows. Even worse, she began hearing strange sounds as her hearing became more acute with her surroundings.

  Firstly, she heard the slight banging of a metal trashcan, followed by the ruckus of an alley cat fleeing away. But fleeing from what?

  Then she heard the creaking of a couple of fire escapes above her, as if someone was following her from above.

  She picked up her pace just before hearing the final noise, which was something common yet threatening to her, especially in a dark place where she couldn’t see her immediate surroundings. That last noise she heard was a faint cough, a clearing of the throat, very deep and low, definitely a man’s. She stopped and turned around, looking far across the stretch of alley behind her.

  There was nothing.

  Is someone there? Worried for her safety, she increased her speed, hoping to reach the end of the alley soon and make it to the taxidermy shop, where at last she would be able to find refuge with the people inside. Forcefully stepping on the ground, she managed to plunge into ponds of slush and ice, drenching her fancy boots and the bottom layers of her once fanciful dress.

  Damn it. Don’t panic, Lucy. Fighting off her nerves, she slowed down in order to contain her breathing. She looked back down the alley and saw a circus of shadows flickering in the night. It seemed her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or were they?

  About fifty yards away, a pair of dark boots stepped onto the snowy ground.

  Lucy crossed her arms as her body shivered from the mix of cold and fear. Again, she hurried, not wanting to be inside that alley any longer. To her, it felt like seventy miles of bad road, a never-ending journey of dread and anxiety. I should’ve gone to the right.

  Once more, she turned to look behind her. Wait...is that someone?

  Yes, it was.

  That someone trailed her about fifty yards away, and though she couldn’t clearly see the person, she could tell it was a tall man wearing a coat and hat.

  Calm down. It’s probably just someone taking the same route as I am. Regardless, she began a light jog, even though it was hard for her to do so, especially with her boots and long dress. Seeing light up ahead, Lucy was relieved to see an intersection. Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

  She took out her map just as a wintry breeze swiped it away from her, taking it up high and away. As it flew out of her hand, she cursed out loud, clenching her fists in disgust. Once she reached the intersection, she was confused as to which path to take. They both seemed long and dark, and she didn’t have time to ponder on it too long. Looking back behind her one last time, she hastily chose to go right, for it seemed to be lit up a bit more than the other path.

  Fifty yards behind her, the man with the boots took a right turn as well. It was now obvious to Lucy that he was stalking her. Or could it be a coincidence?

  “Oh, hell, Lucy. Just relax and try to find your way out of here.” Slightly running in her drenched boots, she made haste and had covered a lot of ground, about the length of two blocks, when she turned around to look back and saw...him. He, too, was jogging. What the hell? Why is he doing that?

  A sense of terror seized her by the bones. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she took off sprinting down the alleyway, hoping to find an opening soon. With any luck, she’d find another road or path leading out towards the main streets. But after running for a good thirty yards, she noticed that the alleyway got darker and darker with every step she took.

  Frustrated and weary, she lost her focus, and after a few more yards of frantic sprinting she caught her leg in a big pothole full of icy slush. In a flash, she fell hard on the pavement, sliding a few feet across the road, scraping her dress and coat all over the road’s grime and dirt. Feeling the rush of pain, she let out a scream of anguish. Up ahead, as if things couldn’t have gotten any worse, she realized that she’d come to a dead end. Letting out a silent gasp, she slowly whipped her head around to see how far the man was behind her.

  But he was gone.

  She searched the area, inspecting every nook and corner inside the alleyway. Her day had taken a turn for the worse, and she felt abandoned, hopeless.

  Yet, fortunately for Lucy, someone heard her call for help, and before she was able to stand up, a door opened near the building to her right. The alleyway lit up from all the light beaming forth from inside the building. A stout man ran down a couple of stairs, looking around, searching for the origin of the noise.

  “Here!” Lucy said, excited. “Please help me!”

  “Oh, good heavens. What happened to you?” The man rushed over towards Lucy in order to help her. “Why are you out here all alone?”

  “There’s a man chasing me.”

  “Chasing you?” The man stood up and searched the area, looking all the way down the alley. “I don’t see anything.”

  “He was there. I saw him after me. He’s hiding for sure. I just know it.”

  “Hmm. Well, let’s hurry and get you up.” He gave her a helping hand, raising Lucy up to her feet. “What on earth are you doing out here all alone anyway?”

  “I got lost. I think I took a wrong turn.”

  “Where were you going?”

  “Boston Taxidermy Company,” she replied as she tried her best to get the snow and dirt off her suit-dress.

  “You’re not Lucy Reilly, are you?”

  Shocked, she turned to the man. “How do you know my name?”

  “Because I’m Max, the owner of Boston Taxidermy.” He gestured to her. “This is my shop. I guess you were going the right way, since you found it, barely. But you should’ve used the front entrance.”

  A huge wave of relief w
ashed over Lucy. “So you’re the owner?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Oh, thank God. But still, I wasn’t joking when I said there was a man following me.” She thought for a moment. “But then again, he could’ve just been using the alley as a shortcut.”

  “Well, it’s possible. A lot of people use this alley to cross through the buildings and such, yet I still wouldn’t linger out here much longer. Come on inside.”

  Then they heard a loud bang coming from the shadows just twenty yards away, as if someone had accidentally hit an iron pipe that was lying on the ground.

  “What was that?” Lucy said.

  “Get behind me, dear girl.” Max rolled up his sleeves. “Is anyone out there?”

  No response.

  “If there’s anyone out there, please make yourself known. You’ve given this poor girl a heart attack.”

  Again, no answer.

  “Wait, I hear something,” Lucy said.

  “I hear it too. It sounds like a bit of sloshing.”

  “Like footsteps in the snow.”

  “Yep, and they’re heading this way,” Max said, now getting frustratingly angry. “You better head on inside, Miss. You can lock yourself in my office.”

  “Well, what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I can’t just leave you out here all alone. You don’t have to do this. Come inside with me.”

  “I can’t. Whomever it was that chased you should be taught a lesson in manners.” He voiced his concern towards the darkened path. “You out there best prepare yourself for a good talking-to.”

  There was only silence for a second, and then a voice rang out from the shadows. “Boss? Is that you, boss?”

  Max scrunched his face, wondering whom the voice belonged to. “Is that you, Carlisle?”

  Finally, the man in question made his presence known, breaking out of the shadows and into the light. He was a tall, athletic man, wearing a dark brown overcoat and top hat. As he drew nearer to them, Lucy could see that he wore thick glasses and that he had a nice chiseled jaw. “Is that you, boss?”

  “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Burrows.”