"I have specialized in Chinese crime," he said; "much of my time is
spent amongst our Asiatic visitors. I am fairly familiar with the
Easterns who use the port of London, and I have a number of useful
acquaintances among them."

Nayland Smith nodded. Beyond doubt Detective-sergeant Fletcher knew
his business.

"To my lasting regret," Fletcher continued, "I never met the late Dr.
Fu-Manchu. I understand, sir, that you believe him to have been a high
official of this dangerous society? However, I think we may get in
touch with some other notabilities; for instance, I'm told that one
of the people you're looking for has been described as 'the man with
the limp'?"

Smith, who had been about to relight his pipe, dropped the match on
the carpet and set his foot upon it. His eyes shone like steel.

"'The man with the limp,'" he said, and slowly rose to his feet--"what
do you know of the man with the limp?"

Fletcher's face flushed slightly; his words had proved more dramatic
than he had anticipated.

"There's a place down Shadwell way," he replied, "of which, no doubt,
you will have heard; it has no official title, but it is known to
habitués as the Joy-Shop...."

Inspector Weymouth stood up, his burly figure towering over that of
his slighter confrère.