Free Terrors by Richard A. Lupoff

century. He was so shocked, he hardly noticed the stream of tiny white specks scurrying from the elevator car, across the lobby of the Mercury-Baltic Electric Power Building, and into the busy street beyond.
    By the time Andrew McCord had performed his sad duty of contactingold Amos Jamison by telephone and notifying him of his daughter’s death, and the body had been transported to the City Morgue, another telephone conversation was taking place.
    The morgue janitor, Beauregard Brown, had slipped from the autopsy room. He entered what every other worker in the Coroner’s Department thought was a drab closet containing brooms, mops, and other cleaning supplies. Whatthose workers did not realize was that a false wall in the closet gave way to a hidden chamber.
    Here he picked up an instrument that bore only a slight resemblance to a telephone. He whistled a series of low tones into its mouthpiece and a moment later heard a female voice respond.
    “Lady Cerise’s Salon of Beauty.”
    “Ruby Mae?”
    “Yes, this is Ruby Mae. Are you calling to make an appointment?”
    “Ruby Mae, this is Bo.”
    “I hear your voice, Cousin. What is it?”
    “We got another one in, Ruby Mae. I think it’s time to get the Crimson Avenger involved.”
    “Why, Cousin Beauregard! You know our Cousin Clarence is out of town. He’s back home in Savannah visiting family. I wish I could have gone with him, but I had to stay here and work. I have a manicure appointment comin’ in in just a few minutes,Cousin!”
    “Understand, Cousin. You know where to find me.”
    “Why, of course, Cousin Beauregard. I can just taste those ham-hocks and chitterlings already! And thank you for the kind invitation.”
    Ruby Mae Jones placed the handset back on the receiver. She stood behind her manicurist’s table, her white, almost medical-appearance uniform in stark contrast to her ochre skin and shining sable locks.

    Lady Cerise’s Salon of Beauty shared a double storefront in the lobby of the Central Railroad Tower. The other half of the facility was occupied by the Central Barbershop, operated by twin brothers Alberto and Roberto Morelli. In fact, the Morelli’s owned Lady Cerise’s as well, along with their widowed sister, Ciliegia Bacci.
    Exchanging nods with Signora Bacci, Ruby Mae strode across to the barbershopand entered an unobtrusive door therein. A few moments later Ruby Mae or a remarkable simulacrum of the manicurist emerged. She walked back to the manicurist’s table in Lady Cerise’s Salon and seated herself at her station. To the casual observer the manicurist was indeed Ruby Mae Jones. When a customer arrived the manicurist would offer polite greetings and perform her duties quietly, carefully,and efficiently, but with a strange absence of warmth and animation.
    In the meanwhile, a high-speed elevator had traveled from the environs of the Central Barber Shop to a rooftop suite that occupied the entire roof area of the Central Railroad Tower, forty-two stories above the bustling streets and looming buildings of Seacoast City.
    To the customers of Madame Cerise’s Salon, Ruby Mae Joneswas a polite, talented, almost painfully shy manicurist and apprentice beauty operator. To the Crimson Wizard, Seacoast City’s most famous and most feared crime-fighter, she was Nzambi, the scientific genius whose inventions made up the Wizard’s anti-crime arsenal. But to the few evil-doers who had the misfortune to cross her path, she was the Golden Saint, a figure as fearsome as she was fantastic.

    Now Ruby Mae Jones stepped into a private chamber atop the Central Railroad Tower. Moments later the Golden Saint stepped back out. She wore a form-fitting costume of some shimmering, golden-tinted material. Her boots and gauntleted gloves were of a similar but contrasting color. A jeweled belt, slung slow over the Golden Saint’s graceful hips, rounded out her costume, the compartments and attachmentson the belt containing all the equipment that she