Mister Scarlet
The Life or Death Lottery
by Libbylawrence
Mugsy McGraw chomped down on his cigar as he enjoyed reading the latest issue of the Gangland Gazette. The newspaper for criminals was a huge hit with the underworld, and many hardened mobsters could not start their day without checking out the various features in the secretly circulated tabloid. Mugsy grinned broadly as he read the latest installment of “Cracked Nuts.” It was his favorite comic strip.
He bellowed out loud and waved the crumpled paper toward Lefty Reynolds. “Did ya see it? That crazy, round-headed kid gangster Stripes Brown just kicked that bratty Loosey across the playground,” he chuckled.
Lefty smiled slightly. “Comics are for kids. I like the ‘Life or Death Lottery,’ myself. This week the Murder Prophet says he’s going to kill Jameson McGuire, the banker. The odds are pretty good. I might just bet against his chances.”
Mugsy sneered at the skinny man. “You’re stupid! The Prophet never fails. He says he’s going kill some goon, then you saps bet he can’t. He always wins and collects.”
Lefty shrugged. “Yeah, smart guy? Well, maybe his luck will fail.”
Mugsy returned to the comics section and laughed again.
***
Brian Butler moved a stack of documents across his desk and sighed. He was enjoying his new position as police commissioner; however, he never forgot how his friend and predecessor Lou Garde had died while posing as Butler’s former costumed role Mr. Scarlet. He had been killed by one of Scarlet’s enemies, and now Brian and his son Rob were raising Lou’s daughter Melanie. Melanie had adjusted as well as possible. She was bright and brave and had formed a real bond with the Butlers and their loyal aide Wainwright. She even acted as the new Pinky the Whiz Kid alongside Rob, who was the second Mr. Scarlet. Brian had given up his costumed role after capturing Lou’s killer. Now, he hoped to keep the city safe from behind the desk of police commissioner. It was challenging work and necessary.
He frowned as he scanned the reports on his oak desk. Many deaths have occurred in the last few weeks. They have nothing in common to connect them. The victims have ranged from an army man to a banker to a supermarket checker! The deaths have even had different methods. What is the link?
He smiled wearily and called his stately manor. He heard the gruff voice of his faithful butler answer on the other end. “Butler residence. Wainwright speakin’,” he said.
Brian resigned himself for what would surely follow. He said, “Wainwright, I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I have a heavy caseload. Don’t hold the meal.”
Wainwright’s voice took on a heavy edge of sarcasm. “Ya think a police force can run with its head having an empty stomach? What makes you so soitan that crime can’t wait for you to eat somethin’?”
Brian knew the bald old man felt a fierce devotion to his family and worried about their safety. He took his nagging in stride and tried to make the best of it.
Finally, Wainwright put down the phone and groaned as smoke poured out of his kitchen. “My pie! Ruined! Rob and Melanie are still on patrol. Well, they kin just eat around the scorch marks!” he vowed.
***
Pie was not on either of their minds as Mr. Scarlet and Pinky raced through the night in the Scarlet Speedster. The customized van was a mobile crime lab, and it had a durable frame that could resist almost any impact.
Mr. Scarlet (Rob Butler) was a young man with a humorous outlook and a desire to succeed as the second man to wear the famous red costume. He admired his father immensely and hoped to bring honor to the heroic legacy. Next to him sat Pinky (Melanie Garde). Her blonde hair fell gently across her shoulders. She wore a pink mini-dress and moved restlessly in the van. She combined a keen inventive mind with a grace of a promising ballerina.
“The city is quiet tonight. Maybe I can catch Growing Pains!” she joked.
Mr. Scarlet rolled his eyes and said, “Sheesh! You and Kirk Cameron! That crush is getting old.”
Pinky frowned. “Jealous? He gets more fan mail than you do.”
Mr. Scarlet said, “I’m deeply wounded that you would think I could be so petty. Oh, and he does not!” He stopped suddenly and said, “Look up there. Second window from right. Top floor.” He indicated a building to their right. A figure was climbing inside the window of an office building.
Pinky smiled. “That’s no window cleaner!”
They emerged from the Scarlet Speedster and fired grapples to the edge of the building’s roof. They held tightly and were pulled to the roof with ease and speed. Wainwright had developed the lifts with Melanie’s help; she was truly living up to her name as a Whiz Kid.
Mr. Scarlet kicked back from the roof and lowered himself into the open office window. He saw five figures in red jumpsuits circling a black man in a costly suit. Mr. Scarlet called out, “Do you validate? My van’s parked outside!”
They whirled and cursed in dismay. “Mr. Scarlet! Just what we needed!” muttered one thug.
Their victim sighed in relief. “Thank goodness!”
They turned away from him to charge Mr. Scarlet’s mocking form but met with swift blows to their chins. As two fell backward, the Crimson Crusader shoved them into their allies and slowed the entire group. Pinky rolled across the floor like a cannonball and scattered the thugs who were clustered together by necessity.
She grinned and jumped up to side-kick one of them as he reeled backward. “Strike!”
Mr. Scarlet smiled and tackled two others in a flying leap. He slammed both of them down and said, “I got a spare myself. Too bad these mugs haven’t got the sense of a ten-pin!”
Pinky spun around to trip the final thug. He fell hard, and she kicked him back. He moaned, “That girl is dynamite!” She winked at Mr. Scarlet as if to say, “So there!”
He threw up his hands in mock dismay and helped the office’s owner to his feet. “Are you hurt, sir?”
The man shook his head. “Thanks to you two, I’m fine. They came in my window and started roughing me up. I’m Elmore Harris. I’m an accountant.”
Mr. Scarlet said, “These fellows are wearing the sign of the Murder Prophet. Red hoods with a lightning bolt across the front. Funny, I have not heard of the police getting one of his usual corny predictions.”
Pinky placed one hand on her hip and said, “Maybe he’s changed his style.”
Mr. Scarlet shook his head. “Not likely. He can’t commit a crime without alerting the police or someone first. If he didn’t tip off the cops, then he alerted someone else.”
Pinky frowned as she bent over a fallen goon. “Look at this paper. Gangland Gazette! Now hoods have their own daily paper! Look! ‘The Life or Death Lottery’ column is by the Murder Prophet. He says he will kill Elmore Harris on this date!”
Harris gulped and said, “Why me? Why would he want to kill me?”
Mr. Scarlet placed a reassuring arm on the frightened man’s shoulder. “Everyone hates accountants. No, seriously, we’ll keep you safe and find the pattern. There’s always a pattern.”
They then turned in the gang and departed after leaving Harris with police security. Pinky crossed her legs and frowned as they zoomed homeward. “Why does this Murder Prophet alert folks to his planned crimes before they happen? That’s dumb!”
Mr. Scarlet said, “Dressing up in a red hood and killing people in order to fulfill your own predictions that they will die is not just dumb, it’s insane. Still, that’s his MO. He makes self-fulfilling predictions and then tries to bring them about.
Pinky said, “But this time he failed. We have to find out when he plans to strike again!”
Mr. Scarlet said, “I have an idea or two along those lines. Let’s call Dad.”
***
That night Brian Butler sat across from Rob and Melanie as they munched on Wainwright’s warmed-over meal. Wainwright watched warily as if waiting on them to complain. The food was wonderful as always.
Brian said, “This paper gives me answers I’ve been looking for for some time now. All those poor victims had nothing to connect them, except for the fact that I’ll wager their names appeared in issues of this newspaper. The Murder Prophet picked them and announced his plans to kill them first. Looks like he has crooks bet against his chances to pull off each murder then collect when he succeeds. It’s a rather smart variation on his old theme.”
Rob said, “Why don’t they tip off the cops so that he fails? Then, they collect.”
Wainwright cleared his throat. “Honor among crooks keeps them from doing it. They also fear reprisals. The Moider Prophet holds a grudge and never forgets an enemy.”
Melanie smiled. “So all we need to do is get our hands on this newspaper for no goods!”
Rob said, “And Wainwright’s old connections could enable us to do just that!”
Wainwright rubbed his baldhead and frowned. “I paid my dues. I have been a perfect citizen for decades now. Still, I might have some old pals who owe me a favor or two.”
Brian hid a smile. “Wonderful. If we get the name of the next victim, then we’ll be ready for them.”
***
The next day Brian glanced up from his paperwork to see the smiling face of Assistant Commissioner Roz Doyle. She held out a paper with a satisfied look on her pretty face.
“We caught Jim Donovan today. He works for the Murder Prophet, and he was carrying this paper. It seems to predict the next victim of our mad prophet,” she said.
Brian read the edition and nodded. “This is the break we were looking for in this case. The victim is Penelope Shupe the model. She lives just outside of the town. Let me make a call. I’d like to summon Mr. Scarlet. He can handle this without attracting the attention a squad would draw.”
Roz frowned. “You think we should keep relying upon him? The last Commissioner couldn’t blow his nose without asking Mr. Scarlet first!”
Brian’s face grew dark. “I know you didn’t get along with my predecessor, but I won’t listen to any remarks like that. The man was a good cop and a good friend.”
Roz drew back. “Sorry. It’s your call.”
***
That night Mr. Scarlet and Pinky approached the isolated home of Penelope Shupe and prepared for battle. Pinky shivered in the cold night air and Rob grinned. “That’s what you get for wearing the mini-dress! I never got cold when I was Pinky,” he joked.
She smiled and arched one brow. “You don’t have the legs to pull out this look!”
Mr. Scarlet said, “OK, woman of the world, I hear you. Now, let’s get our gear ready.” They drew out small guns and silently slipped closer to the house.
Pinky whispered, “It was a lucky break that the police caught that punk. We didn’t even need Wainwright’s sources to find the name of the next victim.”
Mr. Scarlet nodded grimly. “It was almost too lucky. He didn’t like us going out before he heard from his source.”
***
Back in the office of Brian Butler, the busy Commissioner slammed the phone down in concern. He was alone in his office and had just received word from Wainwright. The crafty old man had contacted an underworld pal from his crooked past and had indeed been given a copy of the newest issue of the Gangland Gazette. It had differed markedly from the one found on the crook brought in that morning.
“It was a set up. The Murder Prophet wanted us to catch those five me back at the accountant’s office in order to learn about his Gazette, and he sacrificed Donovan as well so we’d send Mr. Scarlet into a trap at Penelope’s house. As this real copy of the paper shows, the true victim he plans to kill tonight is not the model but Mr. Scarlet himself!” gasped Brian.
***
Meanwhile, Mr. Scarlet and Pinky had slipped inside the house to discover that, not only was Penelope not there and had not been there for some time as shown by piles of gathered mail, but the house was full of costumed thugs. They charged the Crimson Crusaders as a fight for their lives broke out.
Mr. Scarlet yelled, “Use the guns!” Pinky nodded, and they began to fire their special weapons. The gas guns emited choking and blinding clouds of red mist that filled the house and confused their foes. Mr. Scarlet grabbed Pinky’s arm and lifted her up as he fired a line and was drawn across the room until he reached a point above the thugs. He anchored the agile girl as she scrambled next to him on a roof beam. She signed rapidly as he accessed the situation.
He gestured to indicate that she should hold tightly to their resting place as he activated a device on his belt. She smiled in understanding as the red cloud began to dissipate below them to reveal a few stunned goons and several new reinforcements led by the Murder Prophet himself.
The villain raised his fist to the sky and said, “Tonight Mr. Scarlet dies! I predict it!”
He gasped as the room was shaken as the armored Scarlet Speedster smashed into the house and scattered the gang in desperation. Rob had summoned the vehicle by remote control, and it had bought them needed time. He dropped down to tackle the Prophet as Pinky spun into the remaining thugs. She high kicked and sent two reeling as she ducked under the arms of the third. Her head-butt dropped him backward as Mr. Scarlet shook the Murder Prophet and ripped off his hood.
“I guess you didn’t see this eventuality! Guess the cable is out on your crystal ball!” grinned Mr. Scarlet.
The Murder Prophet’s angry face contorted with rage. “You and your infernal gadgets!” He twisted away from his captor and ran directly into the newly arriving Brian Butler, who tripped him and watched as Roz led him away cuffed and beaten.
“You two are OK? It was a set up. We almost fell for it. That new remote device for the van saved the day. Good thinking,” he whispered.
Mr. Scarlet and Pinky enjoyed the praise of the mentor. She chirped up, “Wainwright will be pleased. He and I whipped that baby up!”
Mr. Scarlet shrugged. “I could have predicted she’d take credit for the win!”
***
The next morning Brian received startling news from his Assistant Commissioner Roz Doyle. She shook her head as auburn locks bobbed back and forth. “Another dead person has been reported. A banker named Jameson McGuire was found in the river.”
