Nick Carter Stories No. 151 Playbook 1 · The Mystery of the Crossed Needles Adapted by Kateule Sydney from the Original work by Nicholas Carter · Public domain (1915) The Crossed Needles — a deadly calling card from the Yellow Tong CONTENTS · Playbook 1 1. Twice in the Heart 2. The Yellow Tong 3. The Detective's Deduction 4. The Chinatown Trail 5. The House of the Serpent 6. The Secret of the Needles Chapter 1 · Twice in the Heart The electric bell from Andrew Anderton's study rang sharply through the quiet Fifth Avenue mansion. It was close to the ear of the butler dozing in his little room off the hall at the back of the main staircase, and he awoke with a start. "Lord love 'im!" exclaimed that functionary, stalking to the door with as much haste as his dignity would permit. "Why doesn't 'e stop ringing? I 'eard 'im the first time, without 'im keeping the bloom...
Nick Carter Stories No. 151
Playbook 1 · The Mystery of the Crossed Needles
Adapted by Kateule Sydney from the Original work by Nicholas Carter · Public domain (1915)
The Crossed Needles — a deadly calling card from the Yellow Tong
CONTENTS · Playbook 1
- 1. Twice in the Heart
- 2. The Yellow Tong
- 3. The Detective's Deduction
- 4. The Chinatown Trail
- 5. The House of the Serpent
- 6. The Secret of the Needles
Chapter 1 · Twice in the Heart
The electric bell from Andrew Anderton's study rang sharply through the quiet Fifth Avenue mansion. It was close to the ear of the butler dozing in his little room off the hall at the back of the main staircase, and he awoke with a start.
"Lord love 'im!" exclaimed that functionary, stalking to the door with as much haste as his dignity would permit. "Why doesn't 'e stop ringing? I 'eard 'im the first time, without 'im keeping the blooming bell going all the time." Then, as he reached the door and made for the stairs, he continued grumblingly: "All right, Mr. Anderton. I 'ear you. You certainly are a most impatient gentleman. I never seed anything like you for 'urrying a man, not even in the old country. Though the Marquis of Silsby—my last master before I left England—was a 'asty sort of gentleman, too. This was the way 'e always acted. Wanted me to be right on the spot as soon as he touched the bell, although 'e knew very well I was two floors below 'im. My word! That bell's still ringing. I can 'ear it from up 'ere."
The butler, by this time, was on the second floor of the handsome house in upper Fifth Avenue, where Andrew Anderton, the millionaire traveler and Oriental student, lived. He pushed open the door of the study.
"Did you ring, sir?"
He had these words out, from force of habit, before he even looked around the room. When he did, he gave utterance to a shout that brought a maid, who had been passing along the hallway, surging in, white-faced and round-eyed, to see what was the matter.
Andrew Anderton, in the handsome, velvet, embroidered dressing gown he generally wore when alone in his study, was lying across the floor, face down. His body, pressed on the electric foot button, kept the bell below ringing continuously.
"What's the matter with him, Ruggins?" whispered the maid.
The butler knelt by the side of the still figure and gently turned it over. The face of the student was white—the awful gray white of a corpse—and the eyes were closed. The expression was peaceful. There was nothing in it to suggest that he had died a violent death, or even that he had suffered as he passed away.
"Heart disease, I should say," murmured Ruggins. "Telephone for Doctor Miles, Amelia."
The girl took up the desk telephone on the large, heavy table that Andrew Anderton had been writing at when stricken, and called up Doctor Theophilus Miles, who had been a lifelong friend of the dead man, as well as his physician.
As she telephoned she pointed mutely to a pen that evidently had dropped from the fingers of the master at the moment of his collapse, for it was still wet with black ink, and there was a smudge of it on the white paper of the letter he had been inditing.
"Yes, I see," nodded Ruggins. "It was awfully sudden. 'E must 'ave been took all at once. I wonder whether it was 'eart disease, after all."
He opened the front of the velvet dressing gown—which was not fastened, but had fallen together—and gave vent to a mumbled ejaculation, as he saw that the waistcoat was open.
"And 'is shirt is the same way," he went on. "You can see 'is bare flesh. 'Ello! What's this?"
Something glittering had caught his eye. A closer look revealed two long needles, crossed and welded together in the center, where they were in contact with each other.
"Save us!" muttered the butler. "This is murder!"
The points of both needles were deeply embedded in the flesh on the left side, and Ruggins knew at once that they pierced the heart!
His first impulse was to pull the needles away. Then some vague recollection of something he had heard about the illegality of touching a body until it had been viewed by a coroner held his hand.
"I'll wait till the doctor comes, anyhow. My poor master's dead. It wouldn't do 'im any good to take out the needles. 'Ave you got the doctor, Amelia?"
"Yes. He will be here in five minutes."
"When an inch of steel pierces the heart in two places, it is quite likely to prove fatal, without introducing poison. Still, the poison hurries the crime." — Doctor Theophilus Miles
Chapter 2 · The Yellow Tong
It was less than five minutes when Doctor Theophilus Miles—a rather gruff, although good-natured, man of sixty—came into the room, and, with a nod to Ruggins, knelt by the side of the stiffened form upon the floor. He opened one of the eyes with a calm, professional finger, felt for a pulse, and then pulled aside the dressing gown to put his hand over the heart.
He started as he saw the needles. Carefully he pulled them out, gazed at them in silence for nearly a minute. Then he told Ruggins and the maid to go out of the room.
"And don't say anything about what has happened in this room to the other people in the house until I tell you. If they have found out anything, tell them Mr. Anderton is sick. Understand? And, whatever you do, don't mention these needles."
"Don't you want any 'elp, sir?" asked Ruggins, who did not like to be thus dismissed.
"I'll get all the help I want in a few minutes. I'm going to telephone for it. A gentleman will come here soon—probably in less than a quarter of an hour. If he says his name is Carter—Mr. Nicholas Carter—bring him up at once. That's all."
He waved them both from the room. Then he shut the door and took up the telephone. Soon he had a response to the number he had called, and he asked whether Mr. Carter was on the wire. A reply came, and he went on:
"Oh, all right, Carter! This is Andrew Anderton's house. You know where it is. Can you come at once?... Yes, very important.... You will? Ten minutes? All right! I'll wait for you."
As he hung up the receiver, he soliloquized: "That's one good thing about Carter. He doesn't bother you with a lot of questions over the telephone. He knew that if I had anything to tell I would have said it. I wish everybody I have to deal with was like that. I'd have a much easier life. So they got him! The Yellow Tong! This is the second time I've seen their work. I believe some of those people on the Yellow Sea must get their devilish ingenuity from the Evil One himself."
He had placed the crossed needles on the white letter paper, which had only the date line written upon it, and covered the face of Anderton with a newspaper. Now he sat down in the big swing chair from which the stricken man had fallen, to stare at the needles.
✦ SPECIAL FEATURE: The Yellow Tong
The Yellow Tong was a secret organization with origins in China. They had been spreading their influence across the globe, establishing criminal networks in major cities. Their methods were silent and deadly, and their calling card was a pair of crossed needles—poisoned and driven into the heart of their victim. They were ruthless, organized, and nearly impossible to trace.
Chapter 3 · The Detective's Deduction
The great detective looked at the doctor—who jumped from his chair, wide awake, at the first sound of the butler's voice—and then glanced at the figure stretched across the floor, with a newspaper over the face. A frown drew his heavy brows together. He stooped and removed the newspaper.
"Poor Anderton!" he murmured. "Ah, well! I'm not surprised. How was it, doctor?"
For answer, Doctor Miles pointed to the white paper on the table.
"The crossed needles!" whispered the detective, in an awed tone. Then, sternly: "The Yellow Tong is at it again. This is the second."
"Yes, Carter. The other one was that poor hobo they got in a Bowery lodging house. It was the same thing, you remember. But I was coroner at that time, and I believed the ends of justice would be served by not letting any one know what I found inside his shirt. I have those crossed needles locked up in my laboratory now."
"You've examined them, haven't you?" asked Nick Carter.
"Of course. They are poisoned. Not that that is necessary," replied the doctor. "When an inch of steel pierces the heart in two places, it is quite likely to prove fatal, without introducing poison. Still, the poison hurries the crime. Of course, when a victim dies on the instant, as he does with these needles, it may save the murderer some inconvenience. Poor Anderton! This is the penalty he pays for falling foul of the tong."
"Will there be an inquest?" asked Nick quietly. "Or can you avoid it by certifying that he died of natural causes? I suppose you couldn't do that—although, in one sense, he did die that way. It is quite natural for a human being to pass away when two poisoned needles are in his heart," he added, in a thoughtful tone.
"That's good logic, Nick," admitted the doctor, with a slight smile. "But it wouldn't do. In cases of sudden death, there must be an inquiry by the proper officer. But I can keep the crossed needles out of sight. I will cause the inquest to be entirely perfunctory."
Carter nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. "What do you know about Anderton's connection to the Yellow Tong?"
"He was a scholar of Oriental studies," Miles replied. "He had traveled extensively in China and had written several books on Chinese secret societies. I believe he had uncovered something—something that the Yellow Tong did not want revealed. He told me he was working on a manuscript that would expose their operations in America."
Carter examined the study carefully. The room was filled with Chinese artifacts—scrolls, vases, jade figurines, and intricately carved furniture. On the desk, scattered among the papers, was a small jade ornament in the shape of a serpent.
"What is this?" Carter asked, picking up the ornament.
Miles peered at it. "I don't know. I've never seen it before."
Carter examined it closely. The serpent was coiled, its head raised as if ready to strike. In its mouth was a tiny symbol—a crossed needle.
"This is significant," Carter said. "It is not just a decoration. It is a message—a warning, perhaps, or a sign of ownership."
He pocketed the ornament and turned back to the body. "I will need to investigate this further. There is more to this case than meets the eye."
Chapter 4 · The Chinatown Trail
Carter left Anderton's mansion and made his way to Chinatown, the heart of New York's Chinese community. He knew that the Yellow Tong had a strong presence in the district, and he was determined to find their base of operations.
The streets were narrow and crowded, filled with the smells of exotic spices and the sounds of unfamiliar languages. Carter moved through the crowds with practiced ease, his eyes scanning the faces around him for any sign of the Yellow Tong.
He found a small shop that sold Chinese antiques, and he entered, pretending to browse. The shopkeeper, an old man with a weathered face and wise eyes, watched him closely.
"You have a keen eye for quality, sir," the shopkeeper said, his voice smooth and accented. "May I help you find something?"
"I am looking for information," Carter replied, his voice low and direct. "Information about the Yellow Tong."
The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed. "I know nothing about such things. Please leave my shop."
"I believe you do," Carter said, producing the jade serpent ornament from his pocket. "I found this at the home of a murdered man. I think you know what it means."
The shopkeeper stared at the ornament, and a flicker of recognition passed across his face. Then he looked away, his expression closed.
"I cannot help you, sir. Please leave."
Carter knew that he would get nothing more from the old man. He left the shop, but he did not give up. He had seen the recognition in the shopkeeper's eyes, and he knew that he was on the right track.
He continued his investigation, visiting other shops and speaking with residents of the district. Gradually, he pieced together a picture of the Yellow Tong's activities. They operated from a secret location, hidden in the labyrinthine alleys of Chinatown, and they were led by a man known only as the Serpent—a master of poison and stealth, whose identity was known to only a select few.
"The Yellow Tong is not just a criminal organization. It is a philosophy—a way of life that values secrecy, obedience, and the elimination of any who threaten its existence. They are like serpents, striking silently and without warning." — Nick Carter's private journal
Chapter 5 · The House of the Serpent
Through a contact in the district, Carter learned the location of the Yellow Tong's hidden headquarters—a building known as the House of the Serpent. It was a nondescript structure on a side street, its windows shuttered, its doors sealed. But inside, Carter knew, the leaders of the Yellow Tong planned their operations.
He approached the building under cover of darkness, his movements silent and stealthy. He found a door at the rear, secured with a heavy lock. He worked his lockpicks with practiced ease, and soon the door swung open.
Inside, the building was dark and silent. Carter moved through the corridor, his senses alert for any sign of danger. He heard voices coming from a room ahead, and he pressed himself against the wall, listening.
"The detective is becoming a problem," a voice said in accented English. "He is investigating the murder of Anderton. He is getting too close."
"He will be dealt with," another voice replied. "The Serpent has given orders. Carter must be eliminated."
Carter's blood ran cold. They knew he was coming. They were waiting for him.
He heard a noise behind him, and he spun around to find three men approaching, their faces hidden in the shadows. He had no choice but to fight.
The first man lunged at him, but Carter sidestepped and delivered a powerful blow to the man's jaw. He crumpled to the floor. The second man attacked with a knife, but Carter was faster. He caught the man's wrist, twisted it, and sent the knife clattering to the floor. A swift kick to the chest sent the man sprawling.
The third man hesitated, then turned and fled into the darkness. Carter gave chase, but the man had vanished into the labyrinthine corridors of the building. He had escaped.
Carter knew that he had been lucky. He had survived, but he had also alerted the Yellow Tong to his presence. He would need to be even more careful in the future.
He searched the building for any evidence of the Yellow Tong's plans, but he found little. The leaders had fled, and the building had been cleaned of any incriminating documents. Carter was frustrated, but he was not discouraged. He had found the House of the Serpent, and he would return.
✦ SPECIAL FEATURE: The Serpent's Lair
The House of the Serpent was the nerve center of the Yellow Tong's operations in America. It was a fortress of secrecy, its walls lined with hidden passages and trap doors. The Serpent himself was rarely seen, preferring to operate through his minions. His identity was a mystery that even Carter could not unravel—yet.
Chapter 6 · The Secret of the Needles
Nick Carter returned to his private office, weary but determined. He examined the crossed needles that Doctor Miles had given him, studying them under a powerful magnifying glass. They were made of a fine steel, honed to razor sharpness. The poison that coated their tips was a deadly neurotoxin, capable of killing within seconds.
But there was more to the needles than just their lethality. Carter noticed a tiny inscription on the welds—a symbol that he recognized from his studies of Chinese secret societies. It was the mark of the Serpent, the leader of the Yellow Tong.
He knew that the murder of Andrew Anderton was not just a random killing. It was a message—a warning to anyone who dared to oppose the Yellow Tong. Anderton had been working on a manuscript that would have exposed their operations in America, and they had silenced him permanently.
Carter made a decision. He would continue the investigation, no matter the risk. He would find the Serpent, bring him to justice, and dismantle the Yellow Tong once and for all.
He wrote a letter to Doctor Miles, informing him of his findings and urging him to keep the crossed needles hidden from the public. He also warned him that the Yellow Tong might strike again, and that he should be on his guard.
As Carter sealed the letter, he knew that he was embarking on a dangerous mission. The Yellow Tong was ruthless and resourceful, and they would stop at nothing to protect their secrets. But Carter was equally determined. He had faced danger before, and he had always triumphed.
He would not rest until the mystery of the crossed needles was solved—and until the Yellow Tong was destroyed.
Epilogue: The Hunt Begins
And so began the hunt for the Yellow Tong. Nick Carter had uncovered the first clues to the mystery of the crossed needles, and he was determined to follow them to their source. The trail led deep into the shadows of Chinatown, where danger lurked around every corner and the Serpent waited, unseen and unknown.
The game was set. The players were in place. And the stakes were nothing less than the safety of America itself.
Nick Carter would not fail. He could not afford to.
Read the full series
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Adapted from the Original work by Nicholas Carter
Public domain (1915) · This adaptation follows the playbook series format
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