THE CLUE
OF THE NEW PIN
By EDGAR WALLACE
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with Small, Maynard & Company
Printed in U. S. A.
Copyright 1923
By SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY
(Incorporated)
Printed in the United States of America
THE CLUE OF THE NEW PIN
I
The establishment of Yeh Ling was just between thedesert of Reed Street, and the sown of that great andglittering thoroughfare which is theatreland. The desertgraduated down from the respectable, if gloomy, houseswhere innumerable milliners, modistes and dentists hadtheir signs before the doors and their workrooms andclinics on divers landings, to the howling wilderness ofBennet Street, and in this particular case the descriptionoften applied so lightly is aptly and faithfully affixed, forBennet Street howled by day and howled in a shriller keyby night. Its roadway was a playground for the progenyof this prolific neighbourhood, and a “ring” in which allmanner of local blood-feuds were settled by waist-baremen, whilst their slatternly women squealed their encouragementor vocalized their apprehensions.
Yeh Ling’s restaurant had begun at the respectable endof the street and he had specialized in strange Chinesedishes. Later it had crept nearer and nearer to TheLights, one house after another having been acquired bythe unhappy looking oriental, its founder.
Then, with a rush, it arrived on the main street, acquireda rich but sedate facia, a French chef and a staffof Italian waiters under the popular Signor Maciduino,most urban of maitres d’hotel, and because of gilded and[2]visible tiles, became “The Golden Roof.” Beneath thosetiles it was a place of rosewood panelling and soft shadedlights. There was a gilded elevator to carry you to thefirst and second floors where the private dining-roomswere—these had doors of plate glass, curtained diaphanously.Yeh Ling thought that this was carrying respectabilitya little too far, but his patron was adamant on thematter.
Certain rooms had no plate glass doors, but these werevery discreetly apportioned. One such was never underany circumstances hired to diners, however important orimpeccable they might be. It was the end room No. 6,near to the service doorway which led through a labyrinthof crooked and cross passages to the old building inReed Street. This remained almost unchanged as it hadbeen in the days of Yeh Ling’s earlier struggles. Men andwomen came here for Chinese dishes and were suppliedby soft-footed waiters from Han-Kow, which was YehLing’s native province.
The patrons of the old establishment lamented thearrival of Yeh Ling’s prosperity and sneered at his well-dressedcustomers. The well-dressed