Chapter 61 Chapter 61 Robin was almost stunned.
Tim nodded and suddenly woke up.
He actually fell asleep at the kidnapping scene!
The rainy wind blew across his back, chilling the boy's fresh sweat. He quietly twisted his wrists, strapped to the back of the chair, trying to ease the stiffness in his joints. No one noticed this, or the momentary pause in Tim's breath.
He was listening to the sounds nearby.
Beneath the black blindfold, his blue eyes moved relentlessly. Earlier in the interrogation, Tim's hood had been removed. He feigned fear, stammering and sobbing, crying out that he'd give them any amount they wanted—it was truly embarrassing, though thankfully no one he knew witnessed the scene—but it worked. Tim had at least bought himself a little time, and he was certain that when he mentioned his family's wealth, a muscle in his interrogator's face twitched with disdain and envy.
After all, who doesn't want to make some extra money on the side?
The gangsters' attitude did soften a bit. They didn't shy away from Tim, chatting openly about things like "Don't forget our mission" and "But the boss wouldn't refuse to make a little money from the Drake family." They quickly agreed that there was no need to be too harsh on the young master of the Drake family.
"Okay, kid," the gangster said, turning to Tim kindly after concluding the discussion. "If you behave, we'll find a way to get you back to your mommy and daddy. But you have to behave, understand?"
Tim couldn't help but feel sick at the change in tone, thinking they'd just killed a living person right in front of him. Besides, he was eight, not three. Still, he managed a smile and replied, looking scared but knowing, in a low voice, "I understand."
"Who told you to investigate that case you went to the police station this morning?" the gangster banged his bloody baseball bat.
Tim's eyes flashed, and he immediately understood the reason for the kidnapping. There had to be something else behind the car accident eight years ago that Elio had insisted on investigating! In a flash, he figured out why all this was happening.
The mastermind behind this is someone in the police station. They noticed Elio and Tim's movements that morning. The good news is that they don't currently believe Elio and Tim are investigating on their own, and there's no one behind it. After all, they're just kids, so who would have guessed it?
But that was the bad news. Tim had no one behind him. He could only hope that the school would notice he was missing, that the Gotham Police Department would track him down—or that Batman would find out about this, about what the two kids were investigating.
Is this possible?
He couldn't imagine any reason why Batman would notice this little thing. Tim himself was a little unsure. But in this situation, anyone in Gotham would trust Batman the most.
He'll find out. He'll know. He'll find it.
Because he's Batman.
What Tim has to do now is to buy more time for himself and for Batman's arrival - that is, pretend that there is someone behind him, pretend that he is instructed by someone, and pretend that he knows nothing about it, so that they will not consider silencing him.
"…'case'?"
When Tim spoke, his voice was trembling. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. But as he began to weave his lies, his tone gradually became steady.
"I don't know what case it is," he said with forced composure. "It was just an extracurricular activity, a pre-planned deduction game. Wasn't it? Everything went smoothly. We were even able to run into the police station and find the files they had prepared in advance."
The gangsters looked at each other. "Go on."
"And then the game was over," Tim pretended to recall. "That file was the perfect assignment we handed in."
"Who gave you this 'homework'?"
Tim shrank back into the hard chair. "…Is he a bad guy? Did he take advantage of us?"
He tried his best to play dumb, blinking his innocent blue eyes. This trick worked every time he faced questions from his teachers and parents, but it had little effect in front of the criminals.
"Do we look like good people?" the gangster threatened. "Tell me, or I'll break your legs! Who did you give that file to?"
Tim thought quickly.
The criminals would investigate the name he gave, which would buy him some time, but he had to carefully consider the name. He couldn't be completely unrelated to the matter, otherwise the criminals would easily find out that Tim was lying; nor could he be too easily traced and unable to protect himself...
Suddenly, Tim had an idea.
"He was about six feet tall," Tim pretended to recall, "wearing a brown windbreaker and a black mask..."
The gangster didn't seem to believe what Tim said. But at that moment, his phone rang. Obviously, he thought that the call was more important, so he gave a look to the shorter gangster next to him, who shook the hood in the air and covered Tim's head.
The darkness enveloped Tim. He didn't try to move immediately, but instead tried to focus his whole being, mind, and body, to see where he was.
If they hadn't knocked Tim unconscious when they brought him in, Tim was pretty sure he could have figured out where he was just by the route, even with a blindfold. But even then, he had other ways of figuring it out.
This was an underground garage. Several cars were parked in groups around it. The wind blew from the right, and Tim could smell the damp air.
He had a guess in his mind, maybe even a plan, but first he had to deal with the person who was left here to guard him, if there was one.
"Is anyone there?" Tim whispered, like any introverted child who's had the misfortune of being kidnapped. "I'm a little hungry."
No one answered him. Not even footsteps. Tim breathed a sigh of relief, thinking no one was around. He struggled with his hands behind his back, groping for the ropes. He knew there was a way to untie himself: dislocate his thumb.
It would definitely hurt a little. But it was worth the risk. Tim tried to turn his hand over and touch the thumb of his other hand - he took a deep breath, making sure his tongue was retracted and out of his teeth -
He touched the other hand!
Tim nearly cried out in fright. But a gloved hand clamped firmly over his mouth, and a voice whispered, "Shh."
The voice sounded very soft. The voice... sounded young.
When Tim's mind returned, he realized that the hand covering his mouth wasn't very big. A name came to his tongue, but he fought it not to say it. Tim restrained himself as much as he could and nodded.
Robin breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Tim had regained his composure. He loosened his grip, crouched behind Tim, and began to untie the blood-stained rope. It was clear that the kid had been trying to escape for a while before he arrived, and if Robin was right, he had just nearly broken his thumb.
Even Robin couldn't help but secretly click his tongue.
This was beyond his imagination of the young masters of wealthy families. After all, on the way here, he had imagined that Master Drake had cried so hard that he was out of water. Yes, of course Robin knew who it was. When he heard about this kidnapping case that happened in broad daylight on the noon channel, he contacted Batman.
Batman didn't respond in time.
Robin knew almost immediately that this guy had left him and gone it alone again!
He made up a random excuse and took a leave of absence from school, thinking no one would care anyway (good kids, don't learn this!). Barbara happened to find Timothy's location and generously shared it with Dick. Of course, this was probably also related to Dick's efforts to act cute during the phone call.
"Batman happens to be busy with something else." Barbara said casually.
"I thought rescuing this kid was our primary goal," Dick wondered, then a flash of inspiration struck him. "Wait, what else are you guys not telling me?"
But his suspicion was ruthlessly cut off by Barbara. So Robin had no choice but to squat in the cold underground garage and carefully untie Tim's ropes.
"Did you say you were hungry?" Robin whispered. "Open your mouth."
Tim opened his mouth in agreement. Then he heard the soft sound of tinfoil being torn open, and gloved fingers lifted the mask and placed something sweet in his mouth. Without a second thought, Tim chewed it and realized it was a Lindt milk chocolate.
"It hasn't been too long since you were kidnapped," Robin began to untie the ropes around his feet, "but it's actually lunchtime."
This must be the best lunch he's ever had, thought Tim, Robin's biggest fan. The irrational part of his mind almost felt grateful for this, but then something struck him.
"Elio," Tim's face changed and he grabbed Robin's fingers, "There's a boy named Elio, and he might be taken away too!"
"Who is..."
Robin had just untied the rope and was wondering when he saw the escape door not far away move and was about to be pushed open. He decisively stuffed the rope into Tim's hand, left a word "someone is coming", and immediately disappeared.
Tim subconsciously grabbed the rope and didn't let it fall to the ground. Heavy footsteps came from the left front. Tim clamped the rope around his ankles while feeling something was wrong: the owner of the footsteps sounded unhappy.
The footsteps stopped in front of him. His mask was flipped off, and the tall gangster's face appeared above Tim.
"Six feet tall, brown windbreaker, black mask," he confirmed to Tim. "That covered-up bastard! What else did you tell him?"
"I……"
Tim flinched back in mock fear. He was actually a little nervous, worried they'd notice his hands and feet were free. But when Robin nimbly slid down from the ceiling, landing silently and winking and raising a finger, Tim had to suppress a smile.
"What could he know?" the shorter gangster interrupted. "Never mind, Drake. Tell us what else you know about that guy."
"Shut up, idiot," the tall gangster said impatiently, "I asked first."
"Alright." The shorter gangster rolled his eyes at him. "There's a secretive, mysterious man in a windbreaker out there who's breached the boss's base. Everything that needs to be revealed has already been revealed, and you're still arguing with me about who gets to ask questions first. Great."
Tim looked from one to the other. Robin approached them quietly, even taking the time to choose who to stand behind.
"If you weren't tempted by the money, which you couldn't even see," the tall criminal said angrily, "we would have already found out what information this kid leaked!"
"Don't say you weren't impressed!" The shorter gangster got angry. "We all agreed not to beat him up first. If you're unhappy, I'll let you beat him up first!"
Wait. Wait. Tim thought, What does this have to do with me? Just because I'm rich?
Robin gave him a look, a look that meant to get him ready to run. But Tim misunderstood, his hands gripping the edge of his chair, ready to cooperate with his idol. The gangsters were still arguing when a sudden gust of wind blew, Robin's cape fluttering, and his shadow flashed to the gangsters' feet.
The tall gangster lowered his head suspiciously, "Wait, that's..."
"So whose question should I answer first?" Tim interrupted.
The gangsters all looked up at him, shocked by the boy's sudden tough tone. Robin immediately took action, knocking the tall gangster to the ground and disarming him instantly. Just as he jumped up from the guy and was about to attack the shorter gangster, Tim also jumped up with a roar, waving a chair and knocking the shorter gangster to the ground.
Robin was almost stunned. Then, when Tim turned to look at him with shining eyes and a red face, Robin slowly gave him a thumbs-up.
"Well done!" he praised. "Now, let's find a way to get you to safety."
Robin kicked the thugs on the ground a few times, making sure they were unconscious, and then put his hand on Tim's shoulder. The two guys would be taken away by the Gotham Police Department, and now he wanted to take Tim home. But at this moment, Tim grabbed Robin's cape.
"Wait, Robin!" he said seriously. "I have something to tell you."
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The author has something to say: Unexplained: Dick and Barbara are really cute when they act like spoiled brats.
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