The kidnapper easily hoisted Richard into his arms, holding tighter although this left Richard's mouth uncovered.
"Mm-ngh- get off me! Help! HELLLLP!" Richard kept on screaming and pleading to be released but the man ignored him, and Richard was carried to a filthy garage. He barely had time to breathe before he was thrown to the floor, awkwardly rolling up as his body made contact with the dirty floor. He winced in pain but nothing seemed to be broken or even bruised- he was more shaken than anything.
He jumped to his feet, trying not to show his fear. The man before him was dressed all in black, with a black balaclava covering his face.
"Don't- don't come any closer- I- I know jo jetsi!" He jumped as the man yanked his balaclava off and threw it to the ground, revealing a tanned, unshaved face and a thick head of hair.
"It's jiu-jitsu. And no… you don't."
The blond man strode over to the open door, pressing a button on the wall. "No!" Richard cried, but already the heavy metal shutter fell down, trapping them both inside. He could try and get out, but with the man blocking the way to the door, there wasn't much hope.
"What are you doing? Please, I don't have any money or anything!"
"You had us all worried, boss. I was doing a bit of surveillance on Holmes, and then I saw you! just walking down the street, without a care in the world! Cigarette?"
Richard hurriedly shook his head. "What are you talking about? Look, I don't know where I am, please-" He closed his eyes as the man thrust his cigarette between his lips, to free his hands so he could grab hold of Richard. Richard winced miserably, trying not to breathe in the foul cigarette smoke as the man scrutinised him, large hands tight around Richard's arms.
"It's true then. What they said is true. I can hardly believe it…but here you are."
"What- what are you talking about- are you insane!"
"No- look- please don't be frightened. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'd never hurt you. You're everything to me." The man's face took on a soft, soppy expression as he gazed fondly at Richard's terrified face.
"I don't know who you are? Please, I want to go-"
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions. I do too, but now's not the time to answer them. All I'm gonna say is this: there's more to this amnesia- or more specifically, what caused it, than the doctors are lettin' on."
"Huh?" Richard sobbed as the man shook him roughly, impatience making him violent.
"The accident, the one that turned you into Rip Van fucking Winkle for a bloody year! Yes- that accident-"
"What about it?"
"What was it? What happened?" Feeling Richard tense up, the man grew more animated, holding Richard so tightly his feet left the floor and he was suspended in the air, by the man's hands. "The accident- was it a car crash? Bus crash? Were you run over? Mugged? Did you swim right after eating- what happened? What aren't they telling you?" The man drew in a big breath, jiggling Richard's body excitedly. "And more importantly- why."
"You're-hurting-me". The man dropped him instantly and Richard could breathe again. He scowled and was surprised to see the man flinch. He was surprised to see the man dash past him to the door, pressing the button again so the metal rose upwards, the inky sliver of outside widening.
"I've gotta go but please don't wander outside like that again. There's a disposable mobile phone in that cupboard there- call John and tell him to pick you up. But please, this is serious- get him to tell you the whole sorry story. Get him to tell you how Sherlock Holmes died. That'll knock him for six. Will you remember that? Sherlock Holmes?"
When Richard nodded mutely, the man grinned, crooked teeth flashing against the weather-beaten face. "Good." He slipped outside with surprising grace for such a big man.
"But who are you? " Richard called out desperately, hearing a motorbike roar into life outside.
"Your motherfucking guardian angel!" Came the cry, before the engine purred and the man drove away.
