Singapore Sally 

by Richard Loring 

Originally appearing in Crash Adventures Comics issue 2 in 1940.

You are a brave man, Red Castle," the fat police chief said grimly. He bit down hard on the stained stub of his cigar. "But you're also an utter fool. You will never even see Singapore Sally, let alone bring her to justice! Go back to your New York Police Department and admit failure. The Native Quarter of Singapore is an unhealthy spot for a white man at any time. Especially so, in the middle of the night, for an officer hunting 'The Queen of the Quarter'!"

"I appreciate your tenderness for my safety," Red grinned. "But here in the tropics, I believe you tend to overestimate the cunning and power of criminals. My department wants Sally for a cold-blooded murder she committed on her last visit to New York. They're going to get her!"

Red Castle unhinged his rangy body from the chair and, with a cheery "So long!" swung out of the Police Department of the city of Singapore, Siam.

Rumor had it that this Singapore Sally, "The Queen of the Quarter," ultimately ruled with her shapely but bloody hands this entire section of the city. She had gathered about her a gang of cut-throats and murderers who would kill, torture, or rob at her whispered command. Many attempts had been made to capture Sally.

With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Red Castle dismissed his temporary fears, shoved, through the swinging doors of a disreputable-looking cafe. Moving through the smoke-shrouded dimness, he was suddenly confronted by a tall woman.

"Are you looking for somebody special?" she inquired, slitted green eyes studying him coldly.

"Nobody special, sister," Red replied. "I'm just another tourist looking over the sights."

"Don't hand me that, copper. My men tabbed you as a New York snoop the moment you stepped into the Quarter. You're looking for Singapore Sally...Well, here she is! What are you going to do about it?"

The fine red hairs on the back of the detective's scalp bristled.

"I don't know," he said with an easy laugh and started to slide his hand into his gun pocket. 'I hadn't counted on bumping into you so quickly."

The next instant, Red felt cold steel gouging the back of his neck. The mask-like face of Singapore Sally said:

"The weapon in your pocket will do you no good." She addressed the two pock-marked natives who had silently slid up behind Red:

"Bring him downstairs to my—uh—reception room!"

Following the strikingly tall figure of the most

notorious murderess in the Orient, Red Castle was ushered at gun-point through the noisy length of the cabaret. The steel muzzling his neck and back forced him through heavy drapes and down a steep flight of rickety stairs.

Halfway down, one of the natives stumbled, and for a fraction of a second, the gun snouts left his body. Red's finely trained muscles and reflexes acted swiftly.

He pivoted, ducked, and brought one shoulder up between the legs of the Siamese thug. With a mighty lung, he sent him crashing down the stairs.

Singapore Sally gasped out a piercing scream, and instantly footsteps pounded from the head of the stairs.

Fumbling through the blackness, Red felt the hot bite of a knife stabbing his shoulder. His strong hands finally found the other native. He drew back his fist, and—. Suddenly lights and stars flashed in blinding spirals before his eyes. He felt himself sinking under a heavy, smothering blanket of blackness!

He struggled to move and learned that he was sitting on a chair with his hands tied tightly behind it. The murderess he had come to arrest was standing over him. She was holding a hissing, fiery red poker in one slim hand.

"I'm glad you snapped out of it, copper!" Sally sneered. "Now you can really enjoy our little party! I'm sick of you and your kind continually annoying me; I will use you as a lesson to all the police in the world. You shall be sent back to your department, a gibbering idiot!...Open your mouth!"

Red shook his head dizzily, forcing his brain clear, stared at the red hot iron in the woman's hand.

Why should I permit you to burn out my tongue with that poker?" he asked calmly.

Singapore Sally shrugged, gave an order in Chinese to a one-eyed native at her right. Instantly, the native reached out and grasped Red's nose between his thumb and forefinger,

Foreseeing that they would force him to open his mouth to take in a breath, Red decided on a long desperate chance. He was caught with no chance of outside assistance. There was nothing to lose. Abruptly all his muscles tensed; he kicked back his chair, at the same time, grabbed the native in a killing scissor hold with his legs.

Shots rang out as he went backward with the native atop him. He felt slugs thud into the native's body. His taped hands reached back into the blazing brazier that had been used to heat the iron. A fraction of a second later and the tape had burned through. His hands were free.

By this time, the whole room was chaos. Gunshots streaked orange through the darkness of the room. Something hit him from behind. He twisted, lashed out with his fists. Both blows landed solidly against flesh. His eyes followed shadowy forms slithering about the room, and the gun in his hand barked several more times until the pin struck an empty chamber. He saw the gleam of eyes coming toward him. Like lightning, he hurled the empty revolver straight toward those eyes. There was a scream and the thud of a falling body. Then, without warning, the lights flashed on, and he turned to find the fat police chief and a troop of native police staring at him.

He wiped the blood from his forehead, motioned to the groaning figure of Singapore Sally, on the floor, amidst a welter of bodies that had been her assistants. Red grinned and said weakly:

"You're a little late with the rescue, Chief! Us American cops may be a bit fool-hardy, but we get our prisoner!"

END