Ola put his hands behind his back, and leaned forward, as if he was listening very carefully. He told me not to tell anyone. ‘This could be the breakthrough we’ve been hoping for,’ he said. ‘Well done, Tog. Well done.’

  Tuesday 16 December

  I made 567 lemurs. Another personal best!

  Thursday 18 December

  I’m in a police cell!

  There’s been a terrible mistake.

  I have to get my thoughts in order. And then I have to figure out how I’m going to get out of here.

  The day started really well. The thought of Christmas being just round the corner gave me lots of Christmas Spirit, and by hometime I’d made 569 lemurs, the most I’ve ever made in one day.

  Then something awful happened.

  Usually we all file out of the tunnel, through the security gate, and go home. But when we reached the reception area there was a line of Security Elves searching everyone’s bags.

  When the Security Elf opened my rucksack, it was full of lemurs!

  ‘Hallo, hallo,’ he said. ‘Where did these come from?’

  I had no idea.

  Ola and Steinar took me into a side room.

  ‘Tog?’ asked Steinar. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I promise you!’

  ‘Two hundred and fifty-nine lemurs isn’t nothing,’ corrected Ola. ‘They’re worth a lot of money.’

  ‘But they’re not mine!’ I protested. ‘I mean, they are – I made them – but someone else must have put them in there!’

  ‘A fake Father Christmas, perhaps?’ asked Ola with a sneer. ‘No wonder you told me that crackpot story. You were trying to throw us off the scent. When all along the toy thief was you.’

  He prodded me so hard in the chest that the bell on the end of my hat jingled. Then they bundled me off in a police sled and now I’m here, waiting to be questioned.

  What am I going to do?

  Friday 19 December

  I’m so tired. I’m still at the police station. Elf Detectives have been asking me questions all day, and no one seems to believe me.

  I’m not allowed to see anyone – not even my parents.

  They say I’m going to be charged with Toy Stealing.

  Saturday 20 December

  Spent the day at Thistledown Magistrate’s Court.

  I had to wait for ages for the judge to hear my case. There were lots of dodgy-looking elves milling around, waiting too.

  Eventually I was called up into the courtroom. There was a red-faced elf in the dock and, listening to the conversation, it seemed like he had been caught drunk in charge of a sleigh.

  ‘How do you plead?’ asked the magistrate. She was wearing a long powdered wig.

  ‘Guilty, Your Worship,’ said the red-faced elf. ‘I am wracked with shame. And on my life, not so much as a drop of mead shall pass my lips again.’

  ‘Very well,’ came the reply. ‘We look favourably on those who save the court’s time by pleading guilty. Three weeks’ litter duty at the ice rink.’

  ‘Your Worship’s mercy is humbling. You shall not see me again, I promise,’ intoned the red-faced elf.

  As he passed me, he took a nip from a hip flask and gave me a cheeky wink.

  A Police Elf took me by the arm and I found myself in the dock, facing the magistrate.

  ‘Tog Harket, you are charged with the theft of two hundred and fifty-nine lemurs from Father Christmas’s workshop.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from the clerk of the court, as if she had never heard anything so scandalous.

  ‘How do you plead?’

  ‘Innocent,’ I blurted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It wasn’t me!’

  The magistrate tutted, and shook her head.

  ‘Please don’t waste our time, Mr Harket,’ she said. ‘I’ve read the statements. You were caught red-handed. Show me that you’re sorry, and I’ll go easy on you.’

  ‘It’s not fair!’ I protested. ‘I didn’t do it, I promise.’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘Tog Harket, you will be remanded until such a time as you may face trial in court.’

  Sunday 21 December

  I ’m at Cloudberry Maximum Security Prison!

  It’s like a fortress.

  I’m in D Wing, where they keep the hardened criminals. I’m sharing my cell with an elf called Pippin who’s doing six weeks for flying a kite in a public park.

  I’ve met some of the other inmates too. Just like Steinar said, they all had candy cane tattoos.

  Some of them have committed horrific crimes. Snarler threw hedge clippings into his neighbour’s garden. Baldra sold hawthorn berries to a group of elderly elves, claiming they were rosehips. And Hod went ziplining in a built-up area.

  I’ve got to get out of here.

  Fake Father Christmas is behind all this, I’m sure of it. I bet he’s the one who put lemurs in my rucksack.

  Somehow I have to catch him, and prove my innocence.

  But how? I’m not allowed visitors, so I can’t get a message to anyone. And Cloudberry is legendary. In its entire six thousand years, no one has ever escaped.

  An elf called Pickle who’s in for Hairdressing Without a Licence offered to give me a tattoo, but I said, ‘No, thank you.’

  When he pressed me, I said I was going to escape and prove my innocence.

  He laughed so much he said his extensions hurt.

  I felt quite down after that, so to cheer myself up I used Association Time to visit the prison library. I looked for a book on lemurs, but there weren’t any animal books at all. There weren’t any toymaking books either, so I ended up in the Biography section.

  My eye fell on a familiar face: Grimm Grimmsson. He was beaming out from the cover of a tattered hardback book with the title On Top of the World – How I Became the North Pole’s Most Successful Elf Ever.

  It was hard to believe that the confident elf in the photograph was the same one who had run away with the shoemakers’ pension fund, never to be seen again. And then I thought how sad it must be for Max, not having his father around. No wonder he was a bit difficult sometimes.

  I opened the front cover, and in it was a list of the prisoners who had borrowed the book.

  One of the names was Ola Handsensen.

  Of course! Ola had a candy cane tattoo!

  I’d only ever seen it once, the first time I met him, when Steinar was showing me around. But it was definitely there!

  Which meant he might be Fake Father Christmas!

  It was all guesswork, and everyone says I keep getting things wrong.

  I needed evidence.

  And how could I get any, locked away in my prison cell?

  Monday 22 December

  Had a really weird dream last night.

  I was at the bottom of a very deep well, so deep the top was a tiny circle of light no bigger than an acorn.

  There was a rope dangling above me, which I could somehow see in the dark.

  It was my only way out.

  I put out my hand to take hold of it, but it was a little higher than I thought, so I stood on tiptoes. I jumped and grabbed at it, but my hands clapped shut just short of it.

  No matter what I did, the rope would always be beyond my grasp. I was stuck in the well for ever. I started to panic. ‘Help!’ I screamed. ‘Help!’

  ‘Tog! Tog!’ called a voice.

  It was Pippin, my cellmate.

  ‘Wake up!’ he said. ‘You’re having a bad dream.’

  I was on the top bunk, and Pippin was shaking me by the shoulder.

  I told him about the well and the rope, and he nodded. ‘You need some fresh air,’ he said. ‘And today’s your lucky day. We get to visit the exercise yard.’

  The yard was huge, about the size of the ice rink in the village. It felt wonderful to look up and see the glittering sky. It felt sad, too, because I realised that it might be years before I was free again.

  I thought about Leaf, Twig, Pin, Plum and Socks, and how much I missed them. And my mother and father. Even Bay and Bo.

  I felt something sting in my eye, and suddenly a tear went rolling down my cheek and burned a hole in the snow.

  ‘Tog,’ hissed a familiar voice.

  I looked around, but there was no one anywhere near me. Pippin was right across the other side of the yard, trading acorns with Snarler, Baldra and Hod; and the two Guard Elves were chatting by the basketball hoop.

  ‘It’s me – Holly!’

  I turned around and around. Was I going crazy? There was no one there!

  ‘Over here!’

  I looked in the direction that the voice was coming from.

  ‘Look!’

  Suddenly Holly’s drone uncloaked in front of me, then cloaked again!

  I glanced across at the guards, then at Pippin and friends, to check whether they had seen it too. They hadn’t.

  ‘Holly! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I know you’re innocent!’

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘How?’

  ‘This drone. It was recording and it filmed someone putting the lemurs in your rucksack!’

  ‘No way! Who was it?’

  ‘I don’t know! They were dressed like Poppa, but it can’t be him because he’s away doing an appearance at a shopping centre in Nuneaton.’

  ‘Wait… They were dressed like Father Christmas?’

  ‘Yes!’

  I told her about the fake Father Christmas I’d bumped into, and how he’d been carrying a sackful of toys.

  ‘It must be the same guy!’ hissed Holly.

  ‘That’s what I think!’ I said.

  ‘But who would do such a thing? Who would have the nerve to dress up as Father Christmas? And where would they get the outfit from? Poppa has the only one.’

  ‘I think it might be Ola!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ola, the Left-Hand Elf!’

  ‘You can’t be serious?’

  ‘All right, you lot, back inside!’ called a gruff voice. It was one of the Guard Elves. Holly and I didn’t have much time.

  ‘Holly, you’ve got to get me out of here!’ I hissed.

  ‘Oi! Tog!’ yelled the Guard Elf. He was marching towards me. ‘Back inside.’

  ‘I’m not coming!’ I said.

  ‘Oh yes, you are,’ said the Guard Elf, grinning as he removed what looked like a lasso made of Christmas ribbon from its holster. ‘Put your hands in the air.’

  I did as I was told.

  And then I watched the Guard Elf’s mouth fall open as I was lifted slowly up into the air.

  ‘What the…?’ spluttered the Guard Elf.

  I was holding on to the rails of Holly’s cloaked drone. But the Guard Elf didn’t know that!

  ‘Gotta fly,’ I said, and shot off into the sky.

  I’ve no idea how I managed to hang on. The exercise yard fell away beneath me, then D Wing, then the prison walls. Soon the entire prison was the size of a toy fortress, and I was gliding high above the frozen lake that separated Cloudberry from the twinkling lights of the village.

  ‘Gotta Fly,’ I said, and shot off into the sky

  ‘Hold on!’ said Holly. ‘I’m bringing you in.’

  There she was, at the edge of the forest, a tiny red-headed speck in the snow!

  I hurtled down and landed beside her. My arms were aching, but I gave her an enormous hug all the same.

  ‘He had a prison tattoo!’ I blurted. ‘Of criss-crossed candy canes.’

  ‘The fake Father Christmas?’

  ‘Exactly. And I think maybe Ola does too.’

  Holly nodded slowly, as if she was remembering something.

  ‘That fits. Daddy met Ola years ago, on a visit to Cloudberry. Ola asked for a job, and Daddy gave him one. Ola worked his way up to Left-Hand Elf.’

  ‘We have to tell Steinar!’

  ‘Not without evidence,’ said Holly gravely. ‘He’d never believe us.’

  ‘We’ve got evidence!’ I exclaimed. ‘Fake Father Christmas had a tattoo. If Ola has one too, that’s proof!’

  ‘It’s not enough. There are lots of elves with those tattoos. Come on!’

  Holly clambered on to the drone.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked, climbing up behind her.

  ‘To Ola’s cabin!’

  She wrapped my arms around her waist, activated the control pad, and we took off!

  We shot straight up into the air, until we were level with the treetops, then powered forward across the forest. With the ice rink in sight, we veered right, and landed on the roof of Ola’s lone wooden cabin.

  Holly cloaked the drone, tiptoed along the ridge of the roof, and pulled herself up on to the chimney stack. Of course! It ran in the family. Like all Christmases, she was going to climb down the chimney!

  ‘What are we looking for?’ I hissed.

  ‘I don’t know,’ whispered Holly. ‘Evidence. Stolen toys, maybe? There must be something that will prove Ola is the fake Father Christmas.’

  And with that she disappeared. I heard a soft thump as she landed in the fireplace.

  I have to admit, at that moment I had second thoughts.

  The lights were out, admittedly, but what if Ola was home? What if he was innocent after all? We were trespassing, and I had a feeling that the magistrate wouldn’t be any nicer to me a second time round. If this went badly, I could find myself getting a D-Wing tattoo after all…

  ‘Tog! Where are you?’

  It was Holly, calling up the chimney.

  There was nothing for it. I had to follow her.

  Clump! My feet landed in a pile of soot, and I found myself staring into the darkness of Ola’s cabin.

  There was the flash of a match, and Holly lit an oil lamp.

  The cabin was bare. Just a bed, a sofa and a stove.

  ‘Quick,’ said Holly. ‘We don’t have much time. Look for anything, anything at all, that might prove Ola is the fake Father Christmas.’

  Holly began opening cupboards, and I did the same. There was a small door in the bedside table, so I checked that too. It was empty. Then I noticed a photo in a frame.

  ‘Holly! Look!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘A photo. But it’s of Grimm Grimmsson. And Max.’

  She marched across the room, took it from me and held it in the light.

  ‘Looks old. Grimm is much younger. And Max only looks a hundred or so here.’

  She handed it back to me.

  ‘What’s Ola doing with a photo of Grimm Grimmsson?’ I asked.

  Holly shrugged. Then her eye caught something in the corner of the room.

  ‘Tog, look. Ola’s wardrobe!’

  I knew instantly what she was thinking: maybe this was where Ola kept his Fake Father Christmas disguise! I ran over and we each took hold of a handle, opening the two doors wide.

  The wardrobe was empty.

  ‘Looking for this?’

  We turned round to see Max, holding up a Father Christmas outfit.

  Holly and I looked at one another, stunned.

  Max inhaled and lifted his free hand, which he clenched tight. Then he opened his fingers and blew!

  A cloud of tiny fairy dust sparkles took to the air.

  Then everything went dark.

  Tuesday 23 December

  The first thing I saw when I awoke was my own face, reflected in some sort of see-through screen.

  Where was I?

  Slowly, my eyes adjusted. I was still in Ola’s cabin. My hands and feet were tied with plastic-coated wire, like the sort used to package toys, and so was my waist. I was sitting on a cardboard ledge that had been decorated to look like wood, and the screen in front of me was made of plastic. I was in a display box!

  I looked across at Holly. She was fast asleep in a display box just like mine. There was writing on it that read: 100% Genuine Elf on the Shelf.

  We’d been packaged!

  And what was that hissing sound?

  ‘I thought you’d be waking up about now.’

  I turned to see Max steam-ironing the Fake Father Christmas suit.

  ‘Let us out!’ I exclaimed. ‘Let us out right now!’

  ‘Sorry, old chum, no can do,’ said Max, taking care not to burn the white fur around the cuffs. ‘It’s better this way, trust me. After all, this is what we do with nosey-parker elves, isn’t it? We send them to spy on children.’

  We’d been packaged!

  ‘Why are you doing this to us?’

  ‘I’ve booked a courier to take you to an independent toyshop in Seattle,’ said Max, ignoring my question. ‘I think that’s far enough away. Soon you’ll be sitting on some poor unsuspecting child’s shelf, and you can spy on them all you want. Because that’s what you both are, aren’t you? Spies?’

  ‘Max, what’s going on? Has Ola got to you somehow? We know he’s the one who’s been stealing toys.’

  Max laughed, as if that was a very funny idea indeed.

  ‘You really have no idea, do you?’

  He was right. I hadn’t.

  Max set the iron down, and looked me straight in the eye.

  ‘Ola’s my father.’

  Now my mouth fell open.

  ‘What? I thought your father was Grimm Grimmsson?’

  ‘It’s called a disguise,’ said Max, swooshing the jacket off the ironing board and on to a hanger. ‘You should try it sometime. You could dress up as a successful elf, instead of a total loser.’

  ‘Ola Handsensen… is Grimm Grimmsson?’

  ‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ said Max, picking a speck of fluff from the red velvet. ‘Everyone thought I had no father. Turns out I have two.’

  Could it be true? Grimm Grimmsson had a sharp nose and chin, like a hatchet. Ola looked like an angry polar bear. But now I thought about it, they both had the same eyes. Cold. Grey. Calculating.

  Max was now steaming the trousers.