Stryker Maximum Security Penitentiary; New York, 1944.
Cassandra Coffin had a private cell in the woman's wing of the prison. Her money wasn't able to keep her out of jail, but it did manage to win her certain privileges, not the least of which was her own cell, with better accommodations than the average cell. She was brought her meals. This was as close to luxury as you could get in the Pen.
Cassandra Coffin was used to luxury. Until a few years ago, she was known as Lady Coffin, owner and CEO of Coffin Industries, one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the country. She also had numerous criminal activities going on under the police radar. She had gotten away with them all until she entered into the ambitious plan to create a deadly poison gas in order to help the Nazi's steal a prototype missile. Her plan was foiled by Doc Savage and the mysterious vigilante known as the Shadow.
How the mighty had fallen, people said to her. What a comedown it was for the Queen of Mean to be rotting in a jail cell, instead of lounging in the grand, ivory towers of high society. She hated the Shadow and Doc Savage, and vowed to see them suffer one day. She wanted them dead! But there wasn't much she could do at the moment, locked away in the woman's ward of a penitentiary.
She wished for some way to escape, in order to pursue her dream of retribution!
Meanwhile, outside . . .
A powerful woman reached the walls of Stryker Penitentiary. Having made her way covertly up the riverbank, she sprang over the high walls with superhuman agility. Such a leap was child's play for her. Her muscles were used to the crushing pressure of the deep oceans. Here, in the open air, every movement was magnified like a spring uncoiling. She was a powerhouse on the surface.
The woman was beautiful. Tall with blue skin and pointed ears, she had a regal dignity, even as she sneaked into the jail. Over her head she wore something that looked like a clear glass orb. It was filled with water.
Spotted by guards, they surrounded her, covering her with their weapons. "Stop where you are! Lay on the ground on put your hands on top of your head!" they ordered.
With amazing speed, she struck out, toppling the guards and disabling them in seconds. They couldn't stop her. They wished that the formidable Warden Frye was here, but he was away at the moment. The woman continued on her mission, fighting her way passed numerous other guards, and heading in an unerring path to one particular cell. The cell of Cassandra Coffin!
The blue skinned woman reached the cell. "You there, woman! You are Cassandra Coffin, yes?"
Coffin nodded, confused and curious. "And you are?"
"Your freedom," she said, breaking the door off of the cell. "Come with me," she insisted.
"You don't have to tell me twice!" Coffin said, following the blue woman out. Soon, the two women had successfully escaped from Stryker's Prison.
Chinatown, NY:
The sea-born woman helped Cassandra Coffin make her way down the river and then through some sewer tunnels, finally coming up in the downtown area of the city. Stealthily, they made they're way unseen, in the shadow, until they reached their destination.
Cassandra Coffin followed the blue skinned woman into a fish market in the Chinese section of Manhattan. They slipped into a tunnel under the market. There were several levels of sub-basement that had been converted into a subterranean fortress. This underground lair was the headquarters of the new king of crime for the Chinatown region. This Asian mastermind had organized Cassandra Coffin's escape, and had much bigger plans in the works.
After passing a large number of Chinese migrant workers, hired as thugs for the new king of Chinatown, Coffin was lead to the "Celestial Office", which was the heart of the underground lair. There, she saw an Asian man sitting behind a big desk. She smiled a sinister smile, which made her feel uneasy.
He spoke to her in Chinese. She shrugged. "Sorry, I don't understand."
"Many apologies, my dear," the man said. "I am so used to being surrounded by members of my own race, I sometimes forget to speak in your distasteful language."
Cassandra Coffin was willing to let the insult pass. She was surrounded by several vicious looking henchmen, as well as by this super-powered woman with the blue skin and pointed ears. It was prudent, therefore, to overlook the slur.
The Chinatown crime king looked at the blue skinned woman. "Excellent work, my lady. You are proving to be an indispensable asset to me."
The sea-born woman nodded, accepting the compliment.
Coffin looked at the mysterious woman. "I should thank you. May I ask who you are?"
"I am the Lady Dorma, noblewoman of Atlantis!"
"Atlantis?" Coffin asked, surprised.
"She is a relative of both Aquaman and the Sub-Mariner," the man said.
"And she works for you?" Coffin wondered.
"I have my reasons!" Dorma interjected.
"It was a serendipitous meeting for the both of us," the Asian mastermind said.
"And just who, exactly, are you?" Coffin asked.
"I am the man who arranged your premature release from the confinement of your prison," he said.
"Well, thank you for that, anyway," Coffin said. "So, I assume that this wasn't motivated by altruism. What can I do for you, sir?"
"Good, directly to the point," the Chinese man said. "I like that. I will be equally blunt, madam. I have reliable information that, before your company collapsed, you secretly bought many smaller companies under a series of pseudonyms. You used them as repositories for your various assets. They are called 'dummy corporations', I believe. The imaginary owners of those companies are all aliases for you. You've hired lackeys to act the part, but you are pulling the strings."
"You've done your research well," she said. "Guilty. So, what do you need?"
"First of all, I need a loan," the Asian mastermind said. "A quick influx of funds to help my organization. Secondly, I need certain chemicals, and I know that some of your companies are pharmaceutical companies. I need the materials you can supply."
"And I am expected to give you all this out of sheer gratitude?" Coffin asked.
"Of course not," the crimelord of Chinatown said. "I am inimical to a quid pro quo. What is it you wish?"
"Three things," she said. "Firstly, I want Doc Savage and the Shadow dead! Second, I want a safe place to lay low until they're taken care of, and then you'll arrange passage out of the country for me. And third . . . I want power! Physical power! No one is ever going to manhandle me again!"
The Asian villain smiled. "I believe we can do business, my dear." He snapped his fingers. "Cobra!"
A man came out of an adjoining room. He was a small, chubby man with dark hair and glasses. This name was Dr. Hippocrates Cobra, inventor for hire among the underworld. "You rang, sir?"
"Yes, Dr. Cobra," the Asian man said. "I believe that Miss Coffin here can benefit from your particular brand of scientific expertise."
Dr. Cobra grinned eagerly. A guinea pig! he thought. "Come this way, Miss Coffin."
"That's Lady Coffin, to you!" she snapped.
Back at Stryker Penitentiary . . .
An investigation was going on at the penitentiary. The mysterious Warden Frye was overseeing the matter. Frye was a thin, scholarly looking man with glasses and gray hair. Frye was not your ordinary Warden, and had he been present at the time, things might have gone differently. But he had been away at the time and was now seeing to the discipline of the men who had allowed Lady Coffin to escape. She had ruined his perfect record and someone had to pay until she was caught.
Noted criminologist Denny Colt had been sent by the police Commissioner to observe the situation. Warden Frye was not glad to see Colt, because he wanted to handle the matter personally, but regardless, Colt was here, and Frye was required to cooperate.
"And you say that this woman wore some sort of bowl over her head?" Colt asked.
"So my men inform me, Mr. Colt," Frye said.
"Blue skin and pointed ears?" he asked, "Super strength?"
"Precisely," Frye replied.
Colt thought for a minute. "There's someone I'd like to call in on this one."
Elsewhere in New York, at the palatial home of Lamont Cranston . . .
"Did you see this?" asked Margo Lane, who was having breakfast with Cranston, after spending the night there. She offered the newspaper to Lamont Cranston, who took it and looked over the article that Margo indicated. He raised an eyebrow.
"So, Lady Coffin escaped," he said. "I imagine she'll lay low for a while. Eventually, however, she'll try to get her revenge. Possibly hire an assassin."
"Will she come after me?" Margo asked. "I slugged her, remember?"
"I remember," Lamont said. "It was quite a punch."
"Thanks," she said. "My knuckles hurt for days, but it was worth it to see her go down like that. But seriously, what if she comes after me?"
"I'll look after you," he said. "I can handle her."
Back at the Prison . . .
Dr. Clark Savage, better known as Doc Savage, Man of Bronze, arrived at the prison. He'd heard about the escape of Lady Coffin, and was thinking of getting himself involved in the case. Before he could arrange to do so, he got the message from respected criminologist Denny Colt asking for his help.
Savage was led to the cell by a couple of guards who were also big fans of the adventures of the Man of Bronze. The 6 foot 7 muscular hero with the golden eyes did not disappoint. Savage met Frye and Colt at the site of the breakout. Frye offered a less than cordial greeting for the legendary hero. Colt, however, was much more enthusiastic.
"It's an honor, Dr. Savage," Colt said. "I've always wanted to work with you."
"I've heard a lot about you too, Mr. Colt," Savage said. "I'm glad you called me. I have an interest in this case."
"Yes, I know," Colt said. "You caught her, along with the Shadow. I imagine she'll make some attempt at revenge eventually."
"Most likely," Savage said. "So tell me more about this mysterious woman who broke Coffin out."
Colt gave Savage all the information he had, assisted by some of the guards who witnessed the event. Savage listened, nodding. "She sounds like some sort of oceanic, water breathing species, similar to the Sub-Mariner. Perhaps I should consult him on the matter?"
"I'd rather keep this investigation as limited in scope as possible, Doctor!" Frye insisted.
"Very well," Savage said. "I'll hold off on conferring with Prince Namor for now. He may not be on the surface anyway. For the moment, we need to find a link between this woman and Cassandra Coffin."
"And we need to do it quickly," Colt said. "Before she goes after you or that Margo Lane woman who hit her."
Savage nodded, "Or the Shadow."
The mystery deepens next issue.