Naughty or Nice

by Barbra Annino

  They settled down to watch Harry and Sophie explore the forest, guided by Ray. Miranda was excited as she explained what she had created to Dr. Muriel. “We’ve got simple things dressed up to look complicated. Duplicates. Mirrors. Shadows. Optical illusions.”

  They watched Sophie visit Santa. He was sitting in a honeycomb-shaped, dimly lit grotto on a large, red velvet throne. Naturally he was wearing a red robe and whiskers. He had a computer in front of him on a gold table shaped like a sleigh. The back of the computer screen had been embedded in a glittery white snow globe.

  “Ho ho ho! Hello, Sophie. What would you like for Christmas?”

  She thought for a few moments, then said, “Something so I can do gardening.”

  “Aw,” said Emily in the security booth.

  “Have you been good this year, Sophie?” Santa asked. “I’d better just check my records.” He typed on the keyboard in front of him and peered at the screen. “Yes. Very good. Don’t forget to choose one of the baubles from the trees on your way out. Open it up; you’ll need to show what’s written inside to the elves. Perhaps Granddad can help with the reading?”

  “Are they real elves?” Sophie asked.

  “Well,” Santa said cautiously, “I can’t say for certain. They look real enough to me. Of course, looks can be deceiving.”

  “Do they act like elves?”

  “Yes. Well, they hand over presents to children out the back there.”

  Sophie nodded, satisfied. “They must be real elves.”

  For a moment, Emily lost sight of Sophie. But then there she was, standing next to Santa. Harry was standing behind them.

  “Shall we take a photo, then?” Santa prompted.

  Ray picked up a bakerlite camera as big as an encyclopedia, with a grapefruit-sized silver disc surrounding the flashbulb on top. The three of them blinked as he took the picture. Ray stepped back, wincing.

  “That’s going to get annoying,” said Dr. Muriel.

  “I’ll see if he can’t adjust the settings on that piece of kit—modern technology in old-fashioned housing, it’s easy enough to do. This is why we need a dress rehearsal before the crowds come in.” But Miranda seemed pleased with the way it was going. “You see all that business with the computer screen? He wasn’t really checking whether or not she’d been good.”

  “I should think not,” huffed Dr. Muriel.

  “He makes a note of the gift the child says they’d like and e-mails it to the elves waiting at the back, so they can get it prepared. We’ve got the timing right, I think, though it’s a bit tight.”

  They watched as Harry and Sophie made their way out of the forest. Along the way, almost at the very last tree, Sophie stopped and pointed to a gold bauble. Ray used his plastic axe to help her snare it from the branch.

  “Aha!” said Dr. Muriel. “Gold. Very good.”

  “Is it significant, do you think?” Miranda asked her.

  “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to tell me? That’s what the study’s for, isn’t it?”

  Harry opened the bauble and read the number written inside. “Seventy-two,” he said, peering at it in the darkness with his glasses. “What do you suppose you’ll get, then, Sophie?”

  She shrugged.

  “So it doesn’t matter what the number is?” Dr. Muriel asked Miranda.

  “Exactly! It’s misdirection. Harry and Sophie will make their way to the edge of the forest, and Sophie will trade in her bauble to collect a gift from the elves. And it will seem amazing to her—and to most of the adults, I guarantee you—that whatever bauble she chose has a number inside that matches so closely the gift she told Santa she wanted. It doesn’t even matter if a child asks for a puppy and gets a toy one. The magic of it, the way someone seems to have listened, the way the child herself is in control of the outcome because of the choice she’s made, it’s enough to make them feel very happy. You know, if this study goes off OK, Aunt Muriel, I’d be happy to come along to the university to do a talk about it.”

  But Miranda’s self-congratulatory daydreaming was interrupted by a phone call.

  “There’s a problem,” she said. “We need to go down there.”

  “What is it?” said Emily. “Is Harry all right?” Maybe the excitement had been too much for him.

  “Come and see,” said Miranda. She looked alarmed—frightened, even, as she led the way to the elves’ station at the back of the forest.

  “I’d like to report a missing child,” said Harry when they got there.

  “What do you mean?” said Emily. “Which child?”

  He indicated Sophie. “This child.”

  “She’s standing right next to you!” said Miranda. “She’s not missing!”

  “This isn’t the child I came in with.” Harry adjusted his glasses. “She looks like Sophie. But this isn’t Sophie.”

  A small crowd had gathered. Ray was there. Selena was there. Dr. Muriel, Emily and Miranda were there. There were gasps when they heard what Harry had to say.

  “You’re confused, Harry,” said Miranda. “It happens to the best of us. I look at my own face in the mirror some days, I hardly recognise it.”

  “What’s your name, dear?” Dr. Muriel asked the child.

  “Sophie.”

  Sophie was wearing the sticky label Emily had written for her. She looked exactly the same, except that she was carrying a cardboard box with a picture of a plant pot with a gaudy red amaryllis flowering in it, and she had a utility belt around her waist kitted out with small-sized gardening tools, including a trowel and a fork—the elves had done their job well this afternoon. The amaryllis was a particularly good choice. Strong green shoots would start growing from the bulb almost as soon as Sophie took the pot out of the box and watered the soil. Emily knew because she used to get one from her grandmother every year when she was around the same age. Wait! Why was she suddenly thinking about her grandmother? Emily drew her red cloak around herself and shivered, spooked at the recollection of such an old memory.

  Dr. Muriel continued with her gentle questioning. “And is this your grandfather, Sophie?”

  Sophie shook her head. “No.”

  There was a lot of murmuring from the crowd at that. “No!” “No?” “She said no!”

  Sophie seemed upset that anyone would doubt her. “You can ask Santa, he knows me. I haven’t got a granddad.”

  “She’s been substituted!” whispered Selena. “Aliens or… or some mischievous spirit dematerialized the child while she was in the forest, and put back one that was the same size, but slightly different.”

  “I think there’s probably an easier explanation,” said Dr. Muriel. “What do you think, Emily? You’re good with puzzles.”

  “They’re twins,” suggested Ray.

  “Both called Sophie?” said Dr. Muriel.

  Ray shrugged. “It’s a popular name.”

  Dr. Muriel didn’t know whether to be exasperated or entertained. “Now, Ray, it really would be a failure of imagination for parents of twins to name both of them Sophie.”

  “I’m sure this is the little girl Harry came in with,” said Emily. “She looks exactly the same. That’s my handwriting on the label on her coat.”

  Miranda said, “Sophie, do you remember seeing a reindeer when you came in?”

  Sophie placed her amaryllis-in-a-pot on the floor next to her, carefully. She folded her arms and shook her head.

  “Oh, this is awful,” wailed Miranda. “If only my niece didn’t have to be in her school play today. This disaster could have been avoided. It’ll be all over the papers if we’ve lost a child here.”

  Emily was suddenly suspicious. Miranda couldn’t have staged this for the notoriety she said she’d grown out of wanting, could she? “I thought you said your niece had chicken pox?”

  “Something like that. School play, chicken pox… I can’t remember exactly. I just know it’s something that would be intensely irritating if I had to endure it.”

  “Is this
a stunt?” said Emily. “A prank—like substituting the penguin for the partridge in the pear tree?”

  “No!” Miranda seemed to be in earnest. “Something like this, it’s more than a prank with a penguin, which, I’ll admit to you now, I carried out. I thought it might be a bonding experience for the staff. This isn’t a prank! With a child reported missing, someone will want to call the police, they’ll want to take Sophie away—and Christmas will be ruined. Has anyone called them yet? I do hope not. Ray, can you ask security not to call the police, please.”

  “They have to call the police within fifteen minutes if a child’s reported missing,” said Ray. “It’s protocol.”

  “But she’s here! She’s right here!” Miranda grabbed hold of the child. “Sophie, you must remember the reindeer.”

  Sophie said, “I only remember the dog.”

  “Yes! Yes! You see? It is the same child you came in with, Harry. She remembers the poodle. This is your granddaughter.”

  “No, she isn’t.”

  “I’m going to call the school, Harry. I’ll get Sophie’s head teacher on the phone. Maybe she can talk some sense into you.”

  As Miranda stepped away from the group to call Sophie’s head teacher, Emily said, “Sophie looks the same to me. Harry, you’re the one who looks different.”

  “Ooh!” Selena liked that idea.

  Miranda, midway through calling Sophie’s school, stopped dialing and waved the phone to get Emily’s attention. “No! Seriously. One missing person is enough. Don’t start with that.”

  “Did you collect the picture you had taken with Santa?” Emily asked Sophie.

  Sophie shook her head. She hadn’t.

  Emily smiled at her. “I think we should take a look at it.”

  Selena just about whinnied with excitement. “You think Santa’s responsible! That’s brilliant. It’s got to be him. He did it.”

  Dr. Muriel didn’t share Selena’s enthusiasm. “An out-of-work actor in a red robe and whiskers? How?”

  Selena looked down, pawing at the ground with her shiny hoof, as if she expected to uncover a clue etched into the vinyl on the floor. Then she tossed her head back. “Magic camera?”

  “Ah,” said Dr. Muriel politely. “Interesting theory.”

  “Not as crazy as it sounds,” said Ray. “He coulda made the switch when everyone was blinded by the flash.” He swung his axe. “You want me to make a citizen’s arrest? Hold him ’til the police come?”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Dr. Muriel, recoiling slightly as Ray brandished the plastic weapon. “If he’s guilty of something and he tries to escape, he won’t get very far in that getup. The police will easily recognize him.”

  “How long have we got?” asked Emily. “Until the police are called?”

  Ray looked at his watch. “About ten minutes.”

  “Would you mind getting the photo?” Emily asked him. “The printer’s by the elves’ station.”

  “Do you need the ten pounds?” Harry opened his wallet. “I think you have to pay for it.”

  “It’s OK, Harry,” said Emily.

  “If you get any trouble from the elves, you can tell them you’re commandeering the photo,” Dr. Muriel said to Ray. “For evidence.”

  Ray slapped the flat of the plastic axe into the palm of his hand, to show that he was ready to tackle anything, even recalcitrant elves. Off he went to get the photo.

  The photo was eight inches by six inches, full colour, in a clear plastic wallet. Ray passed it to Selena. Selena held it up next to Sophie. Same girl. Same face. Selena and Ray seemed disappointed. Selena passed the photo to Emily. She examined it. Santa was sitting in a chair, Sophie at his side, Harry behind them. Sophie looked exactly the same.

  “That’s the child Harry came in with,” said Emily.

  But still, something didn’t look right to her. Harry was different somehow. “I know what it is! You’re not wearing your glasses in the photo, Harry. I don’t think you had them on when you came in, either. But you’re wearing them now.”

  Harry removed his glasses. He looked at Sophie. “You look blurrier,” he said to her. “More like my granddaughter.”

  “There we are,” said Dr. Muriel. “No harm done. Miranda! We’ve solved the mystery. This is Sophie—Harry just didn’t recognise her because he came out of the forest with his glasses on.”

  But Miranda walked towards her slowly, carefully, as if the ground was giving way beneath her feet. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were blank. If this was her happy face, Emily didn’t ever want to be around when she heard bad news.

  “Whatever’s the matter with you?” Dr. Muriel asked her. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Miranda took a deep, calming breath and exhaled slowly. “I talked to the head teacher. She just checked the classroom, and… Sophie’s there.”

  “So this isn’t Sophie?”

  “Unless she can be in two places at once,” said Ray.

  “Whoa!” said Selena. “Teleportation?”

  Sophie smiled, innocently enough. But maybe the smile was a little… otherworldly.

  “What is your name, dear?” asked Dr. Muriel.

  “Sophie.”

  Dr. Muriel turned to Emily. “What do you think? Twins, aliens, ghosts, magic, teleportation?”

  “Miranda said that a lot of the illusions inside the forest are simple things dressed up to look more complex. I think something like that has happened here.”

  “You better come up with something quick,” said Ray. “The police’ll be here in”—he checked his watch—“about eight minutes.”

  “OK. Let’s start from the beginning. Harry told me he doesn’t see his granddaughter very often. Her name’s Sophie. She goes to a school not far from where we live. Harry got permission to take her out of school to bring her here to test the magical forest. He brought her here on the bus. I saw them both when they arrived. You guided them through the forest, Ray. They stopped and saw Santa, had their photo taken. When they came out of the forest to collect Sophie’s gift, Harry thought his granddaughter looked different.”

  “As though she’d been transformed,” said Miranda.

  “What if we’re all affected?” Selena made a nervous, whickering sound. “I’m serious. Who’s next?”

  Emily shook her head. “Sophie looked exactly the same to me when she came out of the forest as when she went into it. It was only when he put his glasses on that Harry realized she wasn’t his granddaughter. Same build, same hair colour, same name. Close, but not quite right.”

  “Ah,” said Dr. Muriel. “How many girls in your class are called Sophie?”

  Sophie held up her right hand. She unfurled one finger, two, three.

  Emily nodded. “He had gone to the school and told them he had permission to collect a child called Sophie, and they produced a little girl called Sophie—someone’s granddaughter. Just not yours, Harry.”

  Miranda rang Sophie’s head teacher, putting her on speakerphone for the benefit of the group.

  She sounded frantic. “I can’t talk now, Miranda. A child’s gone missing at the school.”

  “About four foot tall, six years old, blonde,” Dr. Muriel called out to her. “Name of Sophie? I think we can help with that.”

  “I’ll bring her back on the bus now,” said Harry. “If her mother agrees.”

  “Can you plant my flower with me?” Sophie asked him.

  “If your mother agrees.”

  “You know, you got your Christmas wish,” Emily said to Miranda, when the logistics for returning Sophie to the school had been agreed with the head teacher. “For a while, people really did think the magic in the forest might be real. Or Selena and Ray did, anyway.”

  “I didn’t!” protested Ray.

  “I did,” said Selena. “I really did.”

  “And you got your puzzle,” said Miranda to Emily.

  Emily grinned at her. “As always.”

  “But I still h
aven’t got a granddad,” said Sophie. For the first time that day, she looked as though she might cry.

  “Well, I can’t say for certain,” said Emily, “but Harry looks like a granddad to me. He acts like a granddad, travelling on the bus with you and offering to help you plant your amaryllis. So…”

  “Yes,” said Sophie, cheering up. She put her hand in Harry’s. “He must be real.”

  “Did you notice how Selina seemed to get a bit more centaur-like, the more time she spent in the forest?” Emily asked Dr. Muriel.

  “There was a good bit of whinnying,” admitted Dr. Muriel. “And pawing the ground. Wasn’t she doing that at the beginning?”

  “No! Ray became more heroic. Harry got to spend time with Sophie. Sophie got her Grandad. Miranda got her wish. I got my puzzle. It almost makes me believe in magic.”

  “Ha!” said Dr. Muriel. “Almost.” From out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw a small reindeer emerge from the forest and run across the room.

  The End

  About the Author

  Helen Smith is a British novelist who lives in London. She’s the author of Alison Wonderland, Being Light, The Miracle Inspector and the Emily Castles mystery series. Beyond Belief, the second full-length Emily Castles mystery, will be published in January 2014 by Thomas & Mercer and is available for pre-order now.

  Helen Smith is on Twitter @emperorsclothes and at https://www.facebook.com/authorhelensmith and she blogs at www.emperorsclothes.co.uk. You can sign up for an e-mail alert when her new book is published: http://eepurl.com/ssbf5

  Carol

  CAROL

  A Spirited Christmas Crime

  by

  J.W. Becton

  Dedication

  For Jessica Melendez

  “Are you the grim reaper?” the dead man asked, his voice raw with the shock of mortality.

  Surprised, the woman’s gaze lowered to assess her appearance. No black-hooded cloak here. Just what she’d worn to the Christmas party that night: a dark, full skirt and shimmery winter-white sweater. That was hardly reaper attire.