Henry Morgan - The drivers

The impact lifted the front of the truck, removing any control over its direction. When it landed and bounced along the rutted road, Hell Raiser, in an old fifties style coach, caught him a glancing blow, sending the pick-up over on its side, spilling the girls upon the ground.

Like mice before the farmhouse cat they scurried to safety and Peter followed suit. Luckily, Hell Raiser had also been shaken and was taking his time getting out of the coach, which had ended up embedded in the garage office. When he did emerge he saw the three girls running towards the fields, their naked bottoms jiggling as they went.

Near one of the petrol pumps Peter spotted a Norton Commando motorcycle. It was a chance of escape, but he was loathe to use it. There was room for two on it and no more. But with the sound of the other Drivers pouring out of the hangar in search of him he had no choice but to take the bike.

There was little fear of theft at such a place and the rider had left the keys in the ignition. Peter leapt onto the saddle, opened the fuel line and kicked over the engine. It fired with an angry roar, attracting immediate attention. The pursuers began bearing down on him, but he had a few seconds to consider his options.

Which girl should he rescue?

It was dawn when Peter was finally able to kill the engine on the Norton. He left the bike on the side stand and the two of them walked the short distance to his gate.

They entered the garden in silence, Peter unable to shift the image of Hell Raiser marching the other two back to their fate.

It had been a long cold drive home, but luckily he had managed to provide some clothing by stealing a light satin petticoat from a clothes line. He had tried to get the dress as well but the woman came out of the house and shouted before he'd had a chance to get the pegs off.

They were half way down the path when the detective inspector stepped out from the bushes, flanked by two uniformed officers.

"Hello Peter," he said, in his usual smug voice. "I take it this is Mrs Warburton."

Peter let out an exhausted sigh.

"You know it isn't," he answered impatiently. "What do you want?"

"I am arresting you, Peter Warburton, in connection with the disappearance of your wife, Susan Warburton, and your sister-in-law, Claire Harris." He motioned for the officers to handcuff the pair then left to search Peter's house.

As he reached the door he turned and looked the half naked pair up and down.

"Nice gear," he said to Peter. "Like the nipple pins."