1954.

Officer Goodman remained calm in the face of the committee and its wrath. Their demands for answers about his association with the Crimson Wraith rolled off of him, even as they filled the walls of the Titan Capitol Building with thunder. 

However, the questions were not ultimately directed at Officer Goodman himself, William Finn recognized. “This is all a show,” he subtly whispered to his son Eddie, as they sat among the others in the audience. “ Political posturing and saber-rattling.”

Eddie smiled. “You mean, a tale told by an idiot? Full of sound and fury? Signifying nothing?”

“As Shakespeare would put it, yes. But I’m afraid it may signify a little more than nothing. These are fearful times. Amid prosperity and comfort, there always lies the fear of what may not be seen.”

For fifteen years, Will had defended the defenseless of Titan City as the Crimson Wraith — fifteen years of cracked ribs, barely dodged bullets, and death-defying leaps. There had been near-drownings, a few close calls with electrocution, innumerable bombs defused, and, on one occasion, an alligator wrestled into submission. After all that, this newly-formed Committee on Community Accountability, or CCA, sought to accomplish what so many villains had failed to do — end the Crimson Wraith.

The more the public had become aware of Crimson Wraith, the more questions they asked. How could the citizenry put their faith in an unknown individual? How could they be assured he shared the values of Titan City when he didn’t answer to a democratically elected authority? Did his red cloak identify him as being part of a covert Communist agenda? And who was this young man who appeared at the vigilante’s side, this Wily Wisp? Where were his parents? Was his safety being looked after? Would other youths follow his dangerous example? 

These questions found their way into the pages of The Titan Gazette in a series of articles penned by Senator Frederick Estes, who finally arrives at three assertions: the Crimson Wraith must be found, the Crimson Wraith must be unmasked, and the Crimson Wraith must be made to answer for himself. It was the only way to ensure public safety, he said. 

Other politicians joined his cause. So did some leaders of Titan City’s religious communities and volunteer civic organizations. Eventually, they formed the CCA and summoned citizens to a series of public hearings meant to uncover the allies of the Crimson Wraith.

“Officer Goodman, what we are trying to establish here are simply the facts.” Senator Estes adjusted his glasses and lifted one of the documents in front of him, “Now, right here, on this report, you confessed to having witnessed the two vigilantes interfering with police operations. Yet, you failed to arrest either. Why exactly is that, Officer Goodman? Have you not sworn an oath to uphold the law and protect public safety?” 

In a level tone, Officer Goodman replied, “If you read carefully, you will see that I did not witness any crime committed by those two. I could not. I was keeping cover from behind a parked car while those who had committed the robbery shot at me. After the shooting stopped, I encountered men who, yes, were dressed in costumes similar to the descriptions used for these masked vigilantes, but fancy dress is hardly a reason to arrest anyone. You wouldn’t have me going around at Christmas time to every man dressed as Santa Claus and arresting him for breaking and entering, would you?”

Will and Eddie stifled laughter, but the gallery erupted with outraged voices decrying the flippancy of the officer’s response. 

Senator Estes banged his gavel to bring the room to order once more. “Officer Goodman, you will address this body with the respect it deserves. Is that understood?”

Eddie scoffed, “How much respect does he think the CCA deserves? This is just a bunch of bunk! I can’t believe they are putting you on the stand.”

Will nodded. “How ironic that in attempting to identify his associates, they have unknowingly invited the Crimson Wraith himself.”

The committee concluded its questioning of Officer Goodman without forcing a confession of any kind. He stepped down with dignity intact, and the gallery grumbled with frustrated bloodlust.

Then William Finn rose from his seat, and the grumbles quieted. Heads turned. Backs straightened. The name alone carried weight, but seeing him in the flesh — immaculate in his tailored suit, a symbol of Titan City’s power — brought a hush over the crowd.

Unsurprisingly, those called to stand before the CCA tended to hail from the fringes of society — the disenfranchised who benefited less from the law and might take it into their own hands. These included ethnic minorities like Officer Goodman, university professors sympathetic to a counter-cultural agenda, artists, musicians, and labor union organizers.

Having William Finn called up by the CCA raised eyebrows. How could someone like him have anything to do with the Crimson Wraith? 

“Mr. Finn,” Estes began, “I would first like to thank you for joining us today. It is not often we get to have one of your rank and status here before us, an Ellsworth graduate, no less.”

“Ellsworth forever,” said Will, smiling. “I’m just hoping I don’t miss my reservation at the squash courts this afternoon.”

“I am certain we can have you out in time.” Estes’s condescending tone suggested he assumed Will to be, at best, a rich idiot.

“Excellent. Well, then, what would you like to know?”

Estes began, “Mr. Finn, as I recall, you were not born William Finn, were you? The Finn family isn’t your real family, is it?”

“I was born a Singer, but for the life of me, I cannot sing. Listen.” He warbled out a strained musical scale. The gallery chuckled.

“So, I see,” said Estes.

“Don’t you mean, ‘so you hear’?”

“Amusing, Mr. Finn. I wonder, was this not difficult for you growing up, knowing that you did not actually belong to the wealth surrounding you?”

“You know, it was a lot. I will always feel a great debt of gratitude to my father, Josah, for adopting me into a life that I could never have imagined.”

“Was there not a tension between you and the other young men around you from your undeserved good fortune?”

“I suppose it did,” said Will, turning less jovial, more somber. “The man who murdered my father and attempted to murder me said as much, before his own death by suicide. It was all so terrible…”

The details of this episode of Finn family history were public knowledge, and reminding Estes of them seemed to cool some of his fervor. 

“Er, yes… Of course. And you do have this committee’s deepest sympathy,” he muttered. It would not do to appear heartless before potential voters. 

Estes went on to ask about Will’s business activities and his connections with foreign financial institutions, probing for possibilities of influence there. He asked, as well, why Will had never chosen to marry, even though he had started a family for himself by adopting his son Eddie.

Will answered all these questions in a casual manner, one calculated to appear uncalculated and thoughtless. He presented himself as simply a man married to his work. If it appeared that he worked with more devotion than others, the fact he had not been born into wealth offered justification.

Later, Will would tell Eddie that he should have known the CCA would not have called him forward without any evidence to challenge his reputation.

Reading from his documents, Senator Estes said, “Mr. Finn, is it correct that you have registered in your name a vehicle with the license plate BV1-122?”

“Possibly. I do own more than one car, and have not memorized them all.”

“I believe it is a Buick Skylark. The 1952 model.”

“Oh, yes! Wonderful car. Are you thinking of getting one?”

Will’s question did not deter Estes from his plan of attack.

“I’m sure a man of your standing has no knowledge of a particular social establishment that goes by the name of the Innocents Club?”

“The Innocents Club? What a strange name.”

“Strange indeed. It is apparently a cocktail bar that caters exclusively to men, and strange activities have been said to occur inside — immoral activities. Its owners have recently been arrested for failure to keep their business license up to date, and the District Attorney’s office has found them quite agreeable. They have much information to share.”

“What a win for the DA, but I do not see what that has to do with me.”

“Would you be surprised to know that your vehicle, a Buick Skylark with license plate BV1-122, has been seen outside the Innocents Club on multiple occasions?”

A general murmur arose. The suggestion that William Finn, a bachelor of forty-one years, may have frequented such an establishment left plenty of space for lurid imaginations to fill.

But for once, Will did not have to pretend to be caught off-guard by Estes. “Yes, it would surprise me. Very much,” said Will.

“Mr. Finn, you haven’t reported the vehicle stolen. Do you plan to tell me that it has gone out of your possession at any time?”

“No, I do not.”

“Then are you ready to share with this committee your reason for frequenting such an establishment at very late hours of the night? Or are you ready to provide other information to this body?”

“Such as?”

“The one question we most want to know.” Estes’s voice rose to a crescendo. “Are you now, or have you ever been, associated with the criminal vigilante known as the Crimson Wraith?”

Eddie felt his face burn with shame. He was the one who drove the Skylark.