War of the World Records (27 page)

The officers stepped forward and handcuffed Royston—paying no regard to the giant's father.

“No!” cried Arthur. “You don't know what you're doing!”

Mr. Whipple looked helplessly at his son.

“Thank you, Inspector,” Rex said coolly, ignoring the boy's outburst. “It's a good thing someone so reasonable was here to protect a man so cruelly slandered and falsely accused as myself. My daughter, unfortunately, is a very troubled girl. Seems she'll say anything for a bit of attention—no matter who it harms. Perhaps a bit of attention from her father will finally straighten her out.”

Rex held his hand at his side, clenching it so tightly it began to shake.

Arthur looked to Ruby with a desperate glance. After all their hard work, Rex Goldwin had managed to escape justice once again. There would be no one to protect Ruby from his retribution. Arthur's heart sank. He had never felt so powerless.

“Please, Mr. Goldwin,” the inspector insisted, “I am happy to do my part in the molding and instruction of today's youth. It pains me to see someone of your position saddled with such defiantly wayward offspring. You, sir, are free to go.”

The inspector gestured toward the exit.

“Not so fast, Smudge!” came a voice from the crowd.

At that moment, the bearded man in the top hat leapt into the center of the aisle.

The inspector, as well as the surrounding crowd, reeled around in surprise. It was then that the bearded man in the top hat tore off his beard and top hat.

“Greenley!” cried the inspector. “What on earth are you doing here—and in that ridiculous costume?! Have I not made it clear you were to stop purchasing those dreadful things?”

“You have indeed, sir,” said D.S. Greenley. “I'm afraid, however—you will have to come with me.”

“What?!” squealed the inspector. “Go with you where?”

“To the station, sir.”

“To the station?! Have you gone mad? How dare you speak to me this way, you insolent little cuss!”

“My apologies, Inspector—but I'm afraid you've been under investigation by the Yard's Inspector Inspection Squad for some time now.”

“What the devil are you talking about?!”

“I hate to say it, sir, but it seems your record for Most Solved Cases in History has been achieved through unlawful means. The IIS have discovered that in each of your cases for the past decade, you have ignored vital evidence in order to make a quick arrest—instead of diligently pursuing the truth. Indeed, it appears you've broken a new record, sir—for Most Innocent People Wrongly Convicted.”

“Preposterous!” cried Inspector Smudge. “I'll not have my conduct appraised by some insignificant sergeant— a sergeant who, I might remind you, is meant to be my assistant!”

“I understand it makes for an awkward situation, sir—but I'm afraid neither of us has any choice in the matter. Top brass, you see, have personally ordered me to inform you of the charges and bring you in.”

“You ungrateful little rat!” the inspector snarled.

“Oh, on the contrary, sir,” said Greenley. “I truly appreciate all you've done for me these past months. Indeed, I've learned more from you than you know.”

He retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his coat.

Inspector Smudge's eyes grew wide. He froze for a moment like a hunted fox—then whirled around and fled back up the aisle.

He had not taken two steps, however, before he was stopped and seized by the wall of uniformed officers he had commanded only a moment earlier.

Greenley took hold of the inspector's arms and slapped the first cuff onto his wrist.

“No!” the inspector whimpered. “I've done nothing wrong! I'm innocent!”

Greenley sighed. “You can't hide from the Law, sir.” He clapped the other cuff shut and announced, “Inspector Hadrian Ulysses Smudge—I am arresting you on suspicion of criminal negligence and perverting the course of justice.”

“This is outrageous!” cried the inspector. “I can't be arrested! I am the recipient of the Golden Magnifying Glass Award!”

Greenley shrugged. “I reckon the Academy of Qualified Award Givers will be wanting that back, sir.” He transferred his hold on the captive's wrists to a nearby officer and said, “Take him away, lads.”

A pair of policemen escorted Smudge through the small crowd of brave theatergoers and intrepid reporters that had gathered around the commotion.

Greenley then turned to Ruby's father, who had begun inching his way into one of the rows. “Now, as for you, Mr. Goldwin,” he said, “I'm afraid you're not going anywhere.”

The sergeant nodded, and a second pair of policemen closed in and handcuffed Rex, who immediately began struggling against his bonds.

“What do you think you're doing?!” Rex shouted. “You have no idea who you're dealing with here! I'll have your badge!”

“Rex Goldwin,” Greenley said calmly, “you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Charles Whipple, as well as multiple counts of conspiracy, aggravated assault, sabotage, fraud . . .”

At that moment, Rita Goldwin pushed her way through the crowd to see her husband in handcuffs. “What—what's happening?! Rex!”

The Goldwin children arrived beside their frantic mother as Greenley turned to her and said, “Ah, Mrs. Goldwin—glad you could join us. Lads—you can go ahead and put the bracelets on this one as well.”

Two more policemen stepped forward and flanked Rita Goldwin, whose face filled with panic.

“Wait—why are you arresting
me
?!” she shrieked as the officers clapped a matching set of handcuffs around her wrists. “I had nothing to do with any of Rex's business dealings!”

“That remains to be seen, Mrs. Goldwin. But in the meantime, we have a charge that will more than suffice.” Greenley touched his fingertips together and narrowed his eyes. “This morning, you see, I had a chat with a friend of your husband's—a Mr. Neil McCoy: the infamous forgery expert. As it happens, Mr. McCoy has been the focus of a longstanding Scotland Yard investigation—which has only just yesterday been brought to a successful close. Though we've known of your husband's connection to McCoy for some time now, we've as yet been unable to glean the precise nature of their dealings. That is—until today. In exchange for a reduced sentence on his other forgery convictions, Mr. McCoy has provided us with copies of a certain series of documents he's been commissioned to produce for your family over the years—the first dating back nearly two decades and the last, not quite twelve months.”

From the inside of his jacket, Greenley retrieved a large Manila envelope—out of which he produced a small stack of official-looking documents. “Namely, these birth certificates here,” he said. “Now—I asked myself—why should anyone want to forge their children's birth certificates? At first, I figured it was simply to cheat on various age-based world records or some other petty offense. You can imagine my surprise, then, to discover that the dates on these certificates correspond to the birth dates of nine missing children, each of whom was abducted from a different hospital shortly after birth.”

Rita Goldwin's face went white.

“And that's when it struck me,” declared Greenley. “The couple I'd been investigating for a simple bit of forgery were in fact the infamous Maternity Ward Marauders, whom law enforcement agencies across the world have been struggling to apprehend for the past seventeen years.”

The crowd gasped.

The faces of the Goldwin children filled with confusion.

“No . . .” murmured their mother.

“According to these certificates, madam,” the detective continued, “it would seem that nine of your twelve children are not your children at all. And so, it should come as no surprise to hear the following: Rita Anne Goldwin, in collaboration with your husband, Reginald Richard Goldwin, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of . . .” Holding up the certificates, the detective called off each birth name as he flipped through the stack. “. . . Johan Maarten Van der Meer . . . Astrid Oda Skoglund . . . Francois Louis Moreau . . . Sally Jane Peterson . . . Vladimir Pavlovich Ivanov . . . Jurgen Lukas Müller . . . Kasper Marek Jankowski . . . Dominique Marie Dubois . . . and Nigel Thomas Winterbottom.”

“No, please,” cried Rita Goldwin. “My babies!”

“I'm sorry, ma'am—but they were never yours to keep. They have been terribly missed, these children you've stolen. Think of all the misery their parents have been made to suffer these past years.”

“Those people never deserved them!” Rita snarled. “These children would have been nothing without us! You're so worried about their parents' misery—but what about their own? Rupert would have been a turnip farmer if we hadn't saved him; Roland would have been forced to take over the family cabinetmaking business; and Rowena was destined to become a schoolteacher! Now
that
is misery! You can't subject them to such a cruel fate—I won't let you!”

Rita lunged at Sergeant Greenley with her fingernails—but was easily restrained by the officers. Her spirit broken, she collapsed in their grasp and began to sob.

Greenley offered Rita his handkerchief, then turned to the officers and said, “Take her to the car, lads.”

The Goldwin children looked to one another in shock and disbelief as the men carried the woman they called “mother” from the theater.

Ruby stepped forward.

“Sergeant Greenley,” she said with wide eyes, “does one of those birth certificates belong to me?”

The detective placed a hand on Ruby's shoulder. “I'm sorry, luv,” he said. “I'm afraid yours is the real thing. Yours—and those of your two brothers: Rayford and Royston. It would appear the three of you are in fact the only actual children of Rex and Rita Goldwin.”

Ruby's eyes dimmed. “I see.”

Arthur stepped up beside her and put his hand on her other shoulder.

Rex sneered. “Don't look so disappointed,
Daughter
.”

Rayford pulled against Wilhelm's grip and blurted, “I told you we were the special ones, Sis! You should have believed me! We would have been unstoppable!”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Greenley, turning to the dwarf. “Rayford Goldwin, I am arresting you for multiple counts of attempted murder, sabotage, conspiracy, and kidnapping. Looks as though prison is to be quite the family affair.”

One of the officers took the dwarf from the butler, handcuffed him, and proceeded to escort him outside.

“I'd do it all again, Father,” Rayford cried over his shoulder, “if only to hear I'd made you proud!”

Rex Goldwin said nothing.

The lobby doors swung shut.

D.S. Greenley turned to the giant. “Royston, though it pains me to do so after what you did for your sister, I'm afraid I've no choice but to arrest you on the same grounds as your brother.”

“I understand, sir,” said the giant. He lowered his head and held out his hands.

“Very well then,” Greenley replied. “Royston Goldwin, I am placing you under arrest for multiple counts of attempted murder, sabotage, conspiracy, and kidnapping.”

Two policemen stepped forward to flank the giant. Royston nodded to Ruby, then turned and walked with them up the aisle.

Ruby watched her brother until he disappeared into the lobby.

The Goldwin children stirred restlessly.

“Is it really true, Dad?” asked Rosalind. “Are we adopted?”

Rex stared at the floor.

“Come on, Dad,” said Roland, “tell me those two aren't really Rayford and Royston. This is all just some sort of joke, right?”

Rex, whose head had sunk lower and lower with every moment since his arrest, now looked up from under his brow and glared at the detective. “Bravo, Sergeant. You have succeeded in destroying everything I have ever created. How does it feel to break up the World's Most Perfect Family?”

He turned to his children and sighed. “Yes, children—I'm afraid it's true. But I promise you, everything I did was for the sake of our family. I only wanted to make ours the very best in all the world. That's hardly a crime, is it?” Rex's attempt at a sympathetic expression came off as merely pathetic. “When Rita first gave birth to those two mutants,” he continued, gesturing to the lobby doors, “we could hardly take them out in public with us, now could we? Yes, we wanted to be a record-breaking family—but not like that. And of course, we couldn't risk having any more freakish children, so we simply selected a few perfect specimens and then took you off the hands of your unremarkable, undeserving parents. And look what we made of you! We should have just kept going, but after we'd successfully adopted Roland, Rosalind, Rupert, and Roxy, Rita got the bright idea we should try to have another ‘natural' child. This time we were blessed with a fourteen-toed misfit.” He nodded at Ruby. “Of course, she wasn't quite as bad as the first two—at least we could keep those hideous feet covered up—but that was the last time I was going to leave the fate of my children up to ‘nature.' Rita went back to wearing her collection of false pregnant bellies as we waited to bring our next child home. . . .”

Arthur looked to Ruby. “Guess those weren't clown costumes after all,” he whispered.

“Guess not,” she said. “Who'd have thought the real explanation could be weirder than
that
?”

Rex sighed. “We kept collecting until we figured we had enough record breakers to dethrone the ‘legendary' Whipples. My only regret is not collecting a few more of you. . . . Well, that—and not murdering every last Whipple when I had the chance.”

Rupert Goldwin groaned with impatience. “So what's to happen to us then?” he demanded. “Hold on,” he added excitedly, “does this mean we'll get the house to ourselves?”