Before Blair could speak, Lake burst out: “This is a blasted frame-up!

The man drew up, and said sharply: “I heard fighting and thought I’d better lend a hand. What has been going on here?” His expression changed, for he saw Tommy. “Oh, it’s you, is it? I wish I’d let them keep at you!”

Hawke smiled a little. “Come now, Mr Harris,” he said soothingly. The tobacconist looked startled.

“Harris! How do you know my name?” Hawke answered easily: “Well, I’ve bought tobacco off you in the past.”

“I — I thought I’d seen you before,” said Harris. “Well, this is a miserable turn-up. I followed a man I’m convinced is dealing in stolen tobacco, but he disappeared along here. This young puppy refused to tell me which warehouse he went into.”

“He’s my assistant, and was working under instructions,” said Hawke. “My name’s Hawke. I’ve heard of the trouble, Mr Harris, and I’m trying to solve it.

“Tommy tells me that Lake will be driving off soon with a van-load of cigarettes and I’ve arranged for the police to take the van as soon as it leaves Aldgate.” Harris drew a deep breath.

“Have you, by Jove! That’s smart work. I owe you an apology, youngster.” He nodded to Tommy, who shrugged his shoulders. “Well, all we have to do is to wait for the police to get busy, then.”

“That’s so,” said Hawke. “We’ll get back.” Consignments

They travelled by bus, and Hawke asked a few questions on the way. Harris said he had twice expected consignments of cigarettes, but they had been stolen on the way to him.

He hadn’t lost much, because he hadn’t paid for them, but he lost the custom.

He had complained time and time again to the police, but not until he had mentioned Lake to the local constable had any notice been taken.

“It looks to me,” said Hawke, “as if we want not so much to know who gets these stolen cigarettes, as to find how he manages to steal them en route.”

“I’d give a lot to find that out,” said Harris. “I deal with Quick Service, Ltd. They’re excellent wholesalers, and — ”

Tommy drew a sharp breath. “Quick Service ! That’s the doorway Lake went in!”

Harris looked stupefied.

“Then — then that means Lake gets them from the wholesaler; they’re not stolen — he must be working in league with the wholesalers themselves!”

“And they pretend they’ve been stolen and get the insurance, but sell them again to Lake!” Tommy burst out. “That’s the whole lay-out, guv’nor!

“It must be. The sooner the police start investigating Quick Service the better.”

“We’ll see if Lake talks when he’s brought in,” said Hawke.

Hawke had hardly reached his flat — with Harris, who asked permission to stay — when Blair arrived. With the inspector was the little Cockney.

Before Blair could speak, Lake burst out: “This is a blasted frame-up! I took delivery of my cigarettes, ordered by phone. They’re mine — not stolen ones!’

“The Quick Service people say you had no right there,” said Inspector Blair sharply. “Don’t keep trying to bluff your way out, Lake, it won’t do any good.

“In any case, these cigarettes were intended for Harris & Co. I’ve checked that on the phone.”

“Then he must have stolen the other lots!” exclaimed Harris. “No wonder he’s always got plenty of cigarettes!”

Lake started to shout, but Dixon Hawke stopped him.

“Lake, you won’t improve your position like that,” he said. “You’ve got yourself into an awkward position, but if you’re innocent, you’ll soon be cleared.” Innocent

“Not by the cops!” snapped Lake. “I know them too well. They’ll send me down for this, see if they don’t, because I went wrong once. But I’m innocent, innocent as air, guv’nor!”

“If that’s true, why go to collect your cigarettes so furtively?” demanded Blair.

“I don’t want anyone to see where I get them — they’re so scarce it’s best to keep a good thing under your hat!”

“That’s a fine story,” sneered Harris.

“As a matter of fact, I think it’s the true one,” said Dixon Hawke quietly.

“Harris, supposing you explain one or two things. Why did you follow Lake?”

Harris looked at him sharply.

“You’re wasting your time. You can’t put this on me! I followed Lake to see where he got his stuff from. That’s all.”

“I wonder if that’s true,” said Hawke. “I wonder if you didn’t follow him to pretend to the police you wanted to know?”

“That’s a lie!” snapped Harris. “Lake’s been caught red-handed!”

“Lake’s been caught collecting cigarettes he ordered,” returned Hawke. “I think you followed him to make sure he fell into the trap — you set the two ruffians on my assistant and then pretended to come to our rescue, to put yourself ‘in good’ with us.

“You see, Harris, I happen to know you’re the owner of Quick Service, Ltd.

“You’ve been arranging deliveries to yourself, then said they’ve been stolen, and have collected the insurance money, while actually you have the ‘stolen’ cigarettes distributed to your other branches, keeping practically no stock at your main shop.

“But the police inquiries were getting too hot. Something had to be done. You allowed Lake to buy, and gradually worked it so that he fell into a trap. You made him come here furtively, like this — it cried suspicion.”

Harris suddenly swung round, but Tommy grabbed him and he did not get away.

“That effort to escape was as good as a confession, and Harris actually made a full one later. He had worked exactly as Hawke said. Complained

Lake was full of thanks, while Tommy demanded to know how on earth Hawke had discovered the truth. Hawke smiled.

“In the first place, I knew Lake wasn’t guilty — no man would sell stolen cigarettes so openly. He would have sold them more furtively.

“Then, Harris complained to the police and actually turned suspicion on to Lake by talking to the patrol policeman. So I did a little telephoning — to Quick Service, Ltd., whose delivery label was on a carton in Lake’s shop.

“I had to find if they were honest. I said I wanted to speak to the owner, that I knew where some cigarettes could be bought, at a price.

“The man there told me that I must refer to Harris, who was the real owner. It wasn’t so difficult, you see. But I couldn’t be sure that Lake wasn’t helping Harris in the fraud and had to let it work itself out completely.”

“If you arsk me, it’s a bloomin’ marvel,” enthused Lake. “Any time you wants cigarettes or tobacco, arsk me, guv’nor — I’ll make sure yer get them.” Our exciting new serial, Icehotel by Hania Allen, begins tomorrow. Don’t miss it!