Mum and Ollie had reached the head of the queue. Ollie was bursting with excitement – at last he was going to meet Santa Claus! They went into the gingerbread house and through a little wooden door into a room filled with shiny Christmas decorations. There was an enormous Christmas tree and a very good imitation of a crackling log fire. Santa was sitting on a large, wooden rocking chair in the middle of the room with his sack of presents beside him. He was dressed as Ollie expected in a bright red outfit trimmed with white fur, a black belt and big black boots. He had a fat tummy and a long curly white beard and moustache. Yet something wasn’t quite right. Above the whiskers, Santa’s eyes looked anything but merry and twinkling; instead they darted from side to side, looking shifty and tense.
The elf took Ollie’s hand and led him to Santa’s side, then she moved away. Ollie stared up at those pale blue eyes. He had the oddest feeling that he’d seen them somewhere before.
‘Right,’ said Santa in an off-hand way. ‘What’s your name and what do you want for Christmas?’
Ollie hesitated. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all. He looked hard into Santa’s face. ‘My name’s Ollie,’ he said at last. ‘What’s yours?’
Strange gave a guilty start, then he turned on Ollie angrily. ‘What kind of a question is that?’ he snapped, in a voice quite different from the one he’d used before. ‘I’m Santa Claus obviously, you stupid boy. Here, take your present and get out of here before I lose my temper. Go on – scram!’
‘I knew it!’ said Ollie. ‘I’ve heard you say that before! You’re not Santa at all. You’re that horrible man from the village – the one who hates children!’
Strange leapt to his feet, his face white with anger. He couldn’t believe he’d been recognized! It was a disaster. His whole plan hinged on the fact that he was wearing the perfect disguise. That way no one would ever know who he was.
‘You little liar!’ he said in a menacing voice that sent shudders down Ollie’s spine. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never seen you before in my life!
But in his rage Strange had knocked his false beard sideways – his whole face could suddenly be seen.
‘Get security quickly,’ called out one of the elf helpers. ‘That man isn’t our Santa at all. He’s an imposter!’
Strange knew the game was up. Even if he managed to steal the money now, the police would know who he was.
But the thought of all that cash was just too much for him. He decided to go ahead with his plan and take his chance. I’ll be out of the country in hours, he thought. They’ll never track me down.
Pushing Ollie roughly out of his way, Strange ran from the grotto, past the startled queues of waiting children and parents. ‘Go home, the lot of you! Christmas is cancelled!’ he yelled. Everyone watched in astonishment as Strange sprinted to the top of the escalator. He looked around, his evil mind weighing up the options. He was on the top floor of the store. The imposter Santa peered down over the balcony to all the floors below. He saw a security guard talking into his walkie-talkie. Another guard saw Strange and pointed. Two more were making their way to the escalator – they were closing in. Strange needed to act fast. He pulled out the big box of matches that Star and Spud had seen in his sack, struck one and put it back into the box. The flame from the match set light to all the other matches inside and soon the whole box was on fire.
‘Oh, whoops!’ laughed Strange as he hurled the box over the balcony into a huge display of Christmas crackers on the ground floor. ‘I seem to have started a … FIRE!’
Within seconds the whole display was alight. The air was filled with the sound of hundreds of tiny explosions as all the crackers exploded, one by one, hurling little plastic toys – whistles, compasses and rubber dinosaurs – out into the shop.
Straight away the fire alarms began to ring. A few people screamed; others urged them to keep calm. Everyone began hurrying towards the exits, anxious to get as far away from the flames as possible. The security guards forgot about Strange and started to help children and the elderly out of the building instead.
Up on the top floor, Mum and Ollie joined the crowds making for the stairs. ‘It’s all right, Mum,’ said Ollie. ‘I know what to do. The firemen who came to our school said if there’s a fire, you’ve got to “Get out, stay out and call the fire brigade out!”’
‘That’s absolutely right, Ollie,’ said Mum, holding his hand tightly. ‘And luckily, the smoke hasn’t reached this part of the building yet. We’ve just got to get downstairs as fast as we can.’
The noise of the fire alarm reached every corner of the store. In the stockroom it was loud enough to make the real Santa stir.
Thank goodness, he’s coming round, thought Star. She licked his face and hands and yapped in his ear, hoping to bring him back to consciousness. Soon the old man was sitting up, rubbing the lump on the back of his head and feeling very confused.
‘Where am I? What happened?’ he muttered. ‘The last thing I remember, I was just about to start my day’s work …’ He looked down at the torn ropes and gag lying beside him on the floor. ‘What’s all this? And where did you come from, doggie?’ he said. ‘And what on earth is that terrible noise?’
Star had never heard a fire alarm before. At first all she knew was that it hurt her sensitive doggie ears, but then she started to smell the smoke. We’ve got to get out of here, she thought, jumping and scratching helplessly at the locked door.
The department store was in chaos. Crowds thronged towards the exits. The security guards and staff members were trying to stay calm. People came rushing out of changing rooms in their underwear and from the shoe department in their socks. Everyone had the same idea. They just wanted to get out.
But one person had no intention of leaving the building. Stanley Strange was pleased with his handiwork. Once the fire had started, he’d taken advantage of the confusion and made a dash into one of the offices on the fourth floor.
‘Ha! Just as I’d planned!’ he laughed. ‘Things are starting to go my way again.’
The woman who worked in the office had left her desk in a hurry. She hadn’t stopped to turn off her computer. It was still switched on, and still linked to the shop’s main network.
Strange’s eyes lit up and he grinned his first genuine smile of the day. ‘I can get to work straight away!’ He sat down on the swivel chair and began to tap on the keyboard, first slowly and then much faster. An eerie calm came over him as he stared unblinkingly at the lit screen. He didn’t hear the sound of the fire alarm or the clatter of people evacuating the building. He didn’t hear the barking puppy in the stockroom or the real Santa shouting for help. Strange was far, far away, in a happy, peaceful place, wrapped in his own little cyberworld. In ten minutes, he would be a multi-millionaire.
