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'What on earth are you doing here?' he demanded.

She seemed to have difficulty in speaking and there was desperation in her eyes. There was complete silence except for the rain drumming hard against the canopy of the truck and Marlowe smiled and reached for the shotgun as the dark shadows rose from behind the Jaguar and moved forward.

Monaghan pulled the girl out of the way and reached for the door handle. 'Right, you bastard,' he said. 'This is where you get yours.'

Marlowe pushed the double barrels of the shotgun out through the window. An expression of complete fury appeared on Monaghan's face. 'You wouldn't dare,' he snarled.

'Wouldn't I?' Marlowe said gently and he thumbed back the hammers.

The other three men were strangers to him, but they bore the mark of hired bullies. One of them said savagely, 'Here, you didn't tell us it was going to be like this.'

Marlowe raised the gun very deliberately and pointed it at them. 'Maybe you haven't heard about a shotgun and what it can do. I'll tell you. It spreads. If I fire it now all three of you'll get it right in the face. If anyone's kicking after that I still have another barrel.'

The three men moved back hurriedly and Jenny clutched at the window and said desperately: 'They made me come, Hugh. They knew you would stop for me. It was my uncle who forced me to come.'

She started to cry bitterly, the tears coursing down her face and mingling with the rain and Marlowe said, 'Go round to the other door and get in. You told me you could drive a truck. Now you can show me how good you are.'

As Monaghan opened his mouth, she darted round to the far side of the cab, wrenched open the door, and scrambled up behind the wheel. In a moment the engine roared and she moved into gear as competently as any truck driver Marlowe had ever seen.

Monaghan gave a roar of rage and reached for the door handle. Marlowe rammed the barrel into the Irishman's stomach. As the truck moved away he looked back and saw Monaghan huddled over in the road, his three bravos standing around him.

As he stowed the shotgun behind the seat he said, 'How did they know I'd be going to London tonight?'

She spoke without turning her head, her eyes concentrating on the road ahead. 'My uncle sent someone round to buy produce from some of the market gardeners Mr Magellan deals with. He found out that you'd been round already today and guessed you'd be trying for London again.'

Marlowe grunted and lit a cigarette. 'Somebody paid us a call tonight and laid Mac out cold. Who was it? Monaghan and his pals?'

She nodded and glanced briefly across at him. 'I was outside in the lane in the car with my uncle. They meant to put your trucks out of commission, but you arrived on the scene too quickly.'

'They seem to be using you quite a lot at the moment,' he said.

She turned the heavy truck into a difficult bend with the skill of a racing driver. 'My uncle doesn't trust me any more. He was furious about what happened the other night. Monaghan's two friends are still in bed. One of them has a broken arm.'

'Who were those characters he had with him tonight?' Marlowe asked.

'They arrived from Birmingham this afternoon.' She shuddered. 'Revolting men. My uncle forced me to go with them. They thought you would stop when you saw me and my car.'

He reached for the thermos and poured himself a cup of coffee. 'Well, their little scheme didn't work. Thanks to my ace-in-the-hole.' As he put the flask back under the seat he added, 'You can pull up now and I'll take over.'

When they had halted she sat silently at the wheel for a moment. After a while she turned and said, with something like horror in her voice, 'You wouldn't have used that gun, would you?'

Marlowe looked surprised. 'What the hell do you think I brought it for?' He laughed harshly. 'Don't start telling me it isn't proper behaviour. I suppose you'd have preferred to stand by and watch Monaghan and his pals use me as a football?'

She sighed. 'No, I suppose you're right in a way.'

She slid from behind the