Kit Handsome and the Santa Claus Chaos 2

Kit studied the mob of angry elves gathered in front of him. 

“You want me to arrest Santa Claus?” he said. 

“Yes,” said the spokeself.   

“Why, what crime has he committed?” 

“He laid us all off, and replaced us with pixies.” 

“That hardly seems a crime,” said Kit. “You may have a case for unfair dismissal, but it’s hardly a case for the police.  We rarely involve ourself in elf-pixie business.” 

“Not after the last time,” added Megson. 

“But these aren’t REAL pixies,” said the elf. “They’re all people dressed as pixies.” 

“Even so, I don’t see how it’s a police matter. Santa is perfectly entitled to employ men or women dressed as women. There are no regulations specifying he has to employ elves.” 

“But they’re not men and women. They’re children. And that’s against the law.” 

“What age are these children?  And what sort of work are they engaged in?” 

“Some of them are as young as five, and they’re engaged in every area of work, manufacturing every type of toy, some of them are welding and using cutting tools.” 

“I’d better take a look,” said Kit. “Can you call Harkaway and get him to pick me up,” said Kit to Megson. 

“No need for that,” said Ulf. “I’m due to deliver there next. I can give you a lift on my sledge.” 

“You have a sledge? I didn’t realise it had been snowing.” 

“Not a snow sledge Kit, it’s pulled by my goat, Yulia.  You see, I am like Thor, the god of thunder, who had two goats pull his chariot.” 

So Yulia pulled Kit and Ulf to Santa’s workshop, where Kit was greeted at the door by a 6 foot 9 inch bouncer. 

“Kit Handsom, Boonhill Police,” said Kit, brandishing his ID.  “Who are you exactly?” 

“I’m Santa’s Little Helper,” said the man. “I like the jumper, very Christmassy, are those little otters in Santa hats?” 

“They’re stoats, actually, but that’s beside the point. I’ve heard complaints that you're employing under-age workers."

“Those elves been shouting their mouths off, have they?” 

“It doesn’t matter who made the complaint, I have a legal and moral duty to investigate it. Are you going to let me in or will you make me get a warrant.” 

“Yeah, sure, come in. We’ve nothing to hide.” 

Kit entered, what transpired to be a veritable factory, with a large range of machines clanking away. 

“What is this place?” said Kit. 

“Santa’s workshop.  It’s where Santa makes all the children’s toys for Christmas.” 

“I see, and who exactly is making these toys if you’ve let all the elves go.” 

“The pixies.” 

“They’re not REAL pixies though, are they.” 

As they walk through the factory, Kit speaks to the nearest worker-pixie. 

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m Kit Handsome from the Boonhill police.  What’s your name.” 

“I’m Franklin,” said the pixie. 

“And are you a REAL pixie?”  

“Of course not silly. I’m just dressed as a pixie as I’m working for Santa.” 

“How old are you? Shouldn’t you be at school?” 

“Fourteen. It’s school holidays, silly. This is work experience.” 

“Do you have a work permit for employing children? Kit asked Santa’s Little Helper. 

“We don’t employ children, that would be illegal. They’re here on work experience, which means that your Boonhill by-laws and the Children and Young Persons Act don’t apply.” 

“We shall see.  I can’t believe all of these children are over 14, and some of the work they’re doing isn’t appropriate for children. Look, that child over there, welding.  Hey little girl, what’s your name?” 

“I’m Sonia. Sonia and I’m not a girl, I’m a Pixie, girls aren’t allowed to work, Santa’s Little Helper told me that.” 

“How old are you Sonia?” 

“I’m six.” 

“Six.” Kit turned to Santa’s Little Helper. “You have a six year old child welding. That is not work experience.” 

“She must have lied on her application, Kit, I can’t help that. She said she was forty-two and an experienced welder. She said she had grandkids to support and everything, I didn’t want to check the paperwork too thoroughly, I was thinking of her grandchildren.” 

The conversation was interrupted by a loud bang, and the sound of a child screaming. Kit ran towards the noise, closely followed by Santa’s Little Helper. 

A girl ran towards them, in clear stress.  

“What’s happened?” Kit asked. 

“It’s Santa, he’s been shot.” 

Kit hurried into the room, where Santa Claus lay prostrate on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood.  Kit checked the pulse, but it was too late. 

“He’s dead,” he said. 

Kit returned to the girl, who was outside the room, in tears. “Who shot him? Which way did they go.” 

The girl pointed, but there was nobody in sight, but an external door was swinging to and fro. Kit ran to the exit, but it was too late. He could see a car driving away into the distance. He rang Megson. 

“Megson, it’s Kit, Santa Claus is dead, ring Anderson on the mainland, we need his full team out here as soon as possible.” 

“How did you know that, Kit, I was just about to ring you?” 

“What do you mean, how do I know? I’ve just seen his body.” 

“Harkaway has just called me from Subplot, the Santa in their grotto has just been murdered.” 

“I was ringing about the Santa at Santa’s workshop, he’s been murdered as well.” 

“Serial Santa killings Kit, what is Boonhill coming to.” 

“Tell Anderson we need him here now. And call social services, we've got a factory full of children who could be our only witnesses. And put a message out to the press, if there are any other Santas on the island they need to take every precaution. We’ve got two Santa killers running loose.