1948.

Captain Hargreaves downed fistfulls of antacid as he awaited the wealthy parents of the young men who had been kidnapped by the Three Billy Goats Gang. His ulcer was screaming as he thought about donations they had made to the TCPD and the strength of their connections in the Titan City government. By the time they arrived, beads of sweat had formed on his brow, but all he could do was dab at them with his handkerchief and mutter something about it being an unseasonably warm springtime. 

All of them had been notified of the kidnapping in the wee hours of the morning and had taken time to don their pearls and furs and things one does not leave their front door without. They surrounded Captain Hargreaves wearing displays of their wealth and influence.

“What I want to know,” one of the fathers bellowed, “is what exactly is the Titan City Police force — which my tax dollars pay for — doing to ensure the safe return of my son!”

“All that we can,” said Captain Hargreaves. “I personally promise you.”

One of the mothers sobbed, “If even one hair on the head of my Geoffrey is harmed, you will be out of a job! That is my personal promise to you!”

Through all the noise, the bachelor playboy William Finn wore a silent frown. He did not share their panic. While the Titan City’s powerful faced the reality of their own powerlessness, he had already taken action. 

It was in just cases like this that Chubby Chumley, William’s oldest friend and dearest confidante, proved invaluable — and not just for his mechanical skill and warm heart. His rustic demeanor and familiarity with the rough-and-tumble parts of town gave him an ability to discover things. In places where the hint of high society or law enforcement would cause all of those inside to withdraw like a bed of frightened sea anemones, Chubby would be welcomed. 

While the parents of the kidnapped Ellsworth graduates raged and wailed at Captain Hargreaves to do something, Chubby was moving through the docks, where his face was known, starting up casual conversations with those who had been sweating away at their labors before dawn. When it seemed appropriate to share his troubles, he would comment that he was worried about his cousin who had gotten in a pinch with some guys he owed money to called something like “the Goat Gang” and see if this sparked any recognition.

The meeting at the Titan City Police Station concluded with Captain Hargreaves asking the parents to begin gathering the funds the Three Billy Goats Gang demanded they bring to Pier 38. “Just as a precaution,” he said. 

Once dismissed, Will went immediately to the City Planning Office to look at properties around Pier 38, saying that he was considering a location for a new Finn Industries facility. A few addresses appeared to be currently unowned, making them potential sites for the Three Billy Goats Gang to use as their hide-out. He returned to Finn Manor with several possibilities and welcomed Chubby soon after.

“I think I may have found something, Will” said Chubby, “There was a thug named Sam Howard who got put away last year. He had been causing trouble with his two younger brothers and a childhood friend as the Barnyard Boys. You think maybe the Barnyard Boys might have become the Three Billy Goats Gang after they lost their fourth?”

Will nodded. “Howard… Howard…” He pulled out the notes he had taken at the planning office. “Here. There’s a shop near Pier 38 called Howard Brothers Fine Cigars, now closed for business. This could very well be the place. Gas up the van, my dearest friend. Tonight, the Crimson Wraith rises!”

Elsewhere…

The boy to Eddie’s left had been quiet for a time, but soon started up his whimpering once more. “Samantha… my darling, darling Samantha…” 

Another hissed angrily, “Pipe down about your silly Samantha! Do you want them to hear you?”

For hours, they had all been made to sit on a hard concrete floor, still wearing pillowcases over their heads, their wrists still bound by butcher’s twine. So long as they stayed quiet, the Three Billy Goats gang seemed content to ignore the Ellsworth boys.

“We just need to keep our cool,” Eddie whispered. “Once our parents bring these men the money they want, we’ll be back home, smoking cigars in our slippers and laughing.”

Listening to the bickering of the Biggest Goat, Middle Goat, and Baby Goat, Eddie had noted the simplicity of the kidnapper’s plan. They hadn’t been able to keep themselves from fantasizing out loud about what they would buy with all the ransom money. To get that money, they would need to keep their captives alive, and there was comfort in that.

“How can you be sure, Eddie? These are desperate, dangerous men!”

“Then we must not be desperate ourselves,” said Eddie, “as desperate as our circumstances might appear.”

To be fair to the other Ellsworth boys, none of them had been kidnapped before, and he had received years of training since. So, while his heart still thundered in his chest, he heard his father’s voice guiding him, just as it had during his very first kidnapping, when he helped to get his fellow orphans out of that burning warehouse. 

“Fight first with your eyes,” Will had said. “And move slowly until it is time to move fast.”

Over the course of the day, Eddie had carefully worked to loosen the twine around his wrists. Through the fabric of the pillowcase over his face, he had just been able to make out the light from the windows. It gave him a general feel for the size of the room they were kept in — not too far across, maybe thirty feet at most, a quick distance to travel. Any door that led outside would likely be blocked, but he might make it out one a window. By the time that night fell, the Three Billy Goats had gotten bored of watching over their captives and left them to go play cards in another room nearby. 

“I think I have my hands free,” Eddie whispered to the others.

“What are you doing?” said one. “You’ll get us all killed!”

“Don’t leave us here, Eddie!” said another. “Untie us too!”

He shushed them as gently as he could. “We’re all going to get out safely, I promise. I’m just going to take a look around.”

With a practiced grace that barely stirred even the dust particles around him, Eddie slipped his bonds and pushed the pillowcase up over his eyes. Steadily, he pulled his legs underneath himself and rose to a crouch.

“Eddie…” Samantha’s lovelorn beau pleaded.

“You’ve got this, Finn,” said another.

Eddie licked his lips. Fear was giving way to exhilaration. He was the son of the Crimson Wraith, and tonight, he would show just what that meant.

Later…

“I sure do hope our Eddie isn’t too frightened,” said Chubby. He drove a plain white service van, an unassuming vehicle any handyman or technician might drive.

Will rode in the back of the van, hidden by the shadows there in his Crimson Wraith battle suit. “If they knew what was good for them, the Three Billy Goats Gang would do well to be frightened of him.”

But he couldn’t help but worry for his son. No matter how many hours of training they put in, there was a big difference between fighting in the gym versus fighting in the real world, and being outnumbered three-to-one made for dangerous odds.

“Slow down a bit,” he said as they neared Howard’s Fine Cigars. “Let’s just drive past and take a look.”

“Looks like one of the streetlights out front is struggling,” said Chubby.

Will noticed the rhythm of its flashing — off-on-off-on, lit for a longer time, then shorter, then longer again and shorter again. “Morse Code!”

“Gosh! What’s it say?”

“C… M… C… Oh, well done, Eddie! Well done!”

“What’s that?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo, a novel about a hero wrongfully imprisoned. It’s one of our codes. Eddie is letting us know where he is.”

Sure enough, when the Crimson Wraith alighted on the rooftop of Howard’s Fine Cigars, he found his son there at the fuse box, sending out the code.

Eddie stood and smiled, “Took you long enough.”

The Crimson Wraith opened his arms. “Come here,” he said.

Eddie ran over to embrace him. “You weren’t worried were you?”

“I was. But don’t tell Chubby. Have you already dealt with your captors?”

“Didn’t want to take your fun away, Father. I’m just keeping an eye on them.” Eddie pointed to a skylight where the Three Billy Goats Gang, without their masks, could be seen arguing over cards. “Feel like dropping in?”

“Absolutely, but I won’t be going alone.” From within his cloak, the Crimson Wraith handed a package to Eddie. 

“What is it?” said Eddie.

“A graduation gift.”

Children create a world of imagination with crayons, not knowing the difference between what is reality and fantasy. After they get old enough to distinguish between the two, they never expect the line between one and the other to blur, much less be torn away. 

Yet, there in his hands, Eddie held what he had first brought into existence on the page — a crime-fighting suit of his very own, all in purple and gold.

“Chubby made it,” said the Crimson Wraith. “And now, I think the world should get to meet the man my son has become.”

Meanwhile…

“Hey, you’re cheating!” the Middle Goat whined.

“And don’t you know cheaters never prosper?” said the Biggest Goat.

The Baby Goat wrapped his hands around the peanuts at the center of the table and slid them toward him. “What can I say, fellas? Lady Luck must be in love with me. It’s just my winning personality.”

“What was that I saw up your sleeve?” said the Middle Goat.

“It ain’t nothin’! I swear!” said the Baby Goat.

The two of them rose from their chairs to come at the Baby Goat from either side.

“Wait a minute, fellas! It’s just a friendly game! No reason to get sore!”

“We’ll show you sore,” the Biggest Goat growled. He took hold of one arm as the Middle Goat grabbed the other. Both forced the Baby Goat’s sleeves upward.

Showers of playing cards poured from his jacket, spilling to the ground and scattering at the Baby Goat’s feet. He looked first to the Middle Goat and then the Biggest, forcing a desperate smile. “Maybe that’s enough cards for tonight. Anybody for a game of Parcheesi?”

Both the Biggest and Middle Goats raised their fists to pummel the Baby Goat when the skylight shattered above them. Not one, but two masked vigilantes dropped to the floor, cloaks whirling around them.

Terrified, all Three Billy Goats shouted in unison, “The Crimson Wraith!”

Then the Baby Goat added, “But who’s the kid?”

“You can call me,” said Eddie, “The Wily Wisp,” and he punctuated his greeting with a roundhouse kick.