Read The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules Online

Authors: Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

Tags: #Humour, #Contemporary

The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules (7 page)

Thirteen

The League of Pensioners had finished their morning meeting, at which Martha and Brains had revealed the new plan to the others. Everyone had been supportive of the idea, so now it was time for Martha and Brains to get going. Brains got out his pliers, a length of electrical wire, some silver tape and a tube of quick-drying glue. He put them all into a white plastic bag which fit easily into the spacious pocket of his bathrobe and couldn’t be seen. He looked at his watch. In five minutes he had a rendezvous with Martha down in the spa.

In the elevator, Martha went over the robbery plans again. The various phases had been carefully thought out, and the only thing that worried her was that Brains might get electrocuted
and drop dead when he short-circuited the wires. The receptionist looked up when Martha walked into the spa’s reception area.

‘One towel, please,’ Martha said.

‘Right. I see you already have a bathrobe,’ the girl said as she turned towards the shelves where the towels lay. That very same moment, Brains slipped past and disappeared into the men’s change room with his bag. The receptionist handed over a large white towel.

‘So delightfully soft,’ said Martha, pressing it against her cheek. The girl behind the counter handed over a plastic card for the safe.

‘When you’ve put your valuables in the safe, you engage the lock by holding the card against it. And when you want to get your things out again, you just hold the card against the lock, and the box will open.’

‘How clever.’ Martha smiled. She hoped that her behaviour was exactly the same as normal and that the receptionist couldn’t detect the nervous beating of her heart.

The change room was brightly lit and a gentle, sweet aroma hung in the air. A dark-haired woman was getting changed, and a bit further away, Martha saw another woman come out of the shower. Otherwise the room was empty. This early in the morning, only a few of the safes were occupied. Martha showered, put on her bathing suit and went into the pool. But she didn’t have time to swim more than a few strokes before the lights started flashing. She stopped, got out of the pool and went back to the change room. There, the lamps were all off and it took a while before the lights came back on again. She tried her plastic card. She couldn’t open the box
with it. She smiled to herself, put on her bathrobe and went out to reception again. The lights were on there.

‘My safe won’t open,’ said Martha.

‘We’ll fix it,’ the receptionist answered.

‘But where shall I put my valuables?’

‘You can leave them here,’ said the receptionist, and she pointed to the storage cupboard right behind her, a robust white-painted metal one. ‘But surely your things are already locked away in your safe?’

‘Oh, yes, I’d forgotten,’ said Martha.

‘Well, how was it?’ Anna-Greta wondered a few moments later when Martha had returned to the suite. She and Christina had not yet finished breakfast and were still sitting in their dressing gowns. Christina held up Martha’s knitting.

‘This was on the sofa. For once could you just finish your knitting so that we could dare to sit down without getting pierced?’

‘Sorry, I always forget. It’s going to be a cardigan,’ Martha said as she tidied away the yarn and knitting needles. She poured a cup of coffee for herself. There were no limitations here, so she could drink as many cups as she liked.

‘When the safes didn’t work, the receptionist put the valuables in the storage cupboard behind her, just as we thought,’ said Martha.

‘Good. How many valuables will fit in there?’ Anna-Greta wanted to know.

‘Quite a lot,’ said Martha vaguely.

Christina looked sceptical, took a chocolate wafer and waved it in her hand.

‘You seem satisfied, but we have made a big mistake,’ she said. ‘We came here to steal from the rich, but have ourselves occupied the most expensive suites.’

There was silence for a few moments as Christina’s words sank in.

‘It isn’t easy being a crook for the first time,’ Martha said defensively, and she, too, helped herself to a chocolate wafer. Times like this justified some chocolate.

‘We ought to have booked another room and waited until a really big star came along, a rich, famous artiste, a king or a president,’ Christina maintained.

‘It’s a lot to think about at our age—being on the run
as well as
committing a robbery. We have to take one step a time,’ said Martha.

‘But on the upside, the price of gold is high at the moment. Three thick gold bracelets would be a hundred thousand kronor straight away,’ said Anna-Greta, proud to show off her speedy mental arithmetic.

‘Don’t forget that the robbery needs to be big enough to get us into prison,’ Christina pointed out. After realizing that Rake thought prison really was a good idea, Christina was now much keener on it.

‘We’ll go down to the spa at lunchtime when it’s crowded. The storage cupboard in reception will be bulging with gold by then,’ said Martha.

The others agreed. When they were dressed, Martha went down to see Brains for a final run-through. He showed her his drawings.

‘This is where I have short-circuited it,’ he said, putting his finger on the paper. ‘It’ll be a while before anybody finds
the break in the circuit of the safes,’ he went on, pointing at some strange-looking lines. ‘And the wiring to the pool and the steam room is only temporarily repaired. Two seconds flat, and I can cut off the lot. Duct tape is fantastic!’ He looked so delighted that Martha was reminded of a boy in front of a video game.

‘And what if things don’t go according to plan?’

‘Something could go wrong, but if it does, then we simply need to make a new plan. And I’ve got some spare tools as well,’ he answered, putting his hand on the sports bag.

There was a knock on the door and Rake came in. He looked sleepy and smelt of garlic. He caught sight of the two small plastic bags that lay on the table.

‘Be careful with the herbs,’ he said, but didn’t get any further before there was more knocking on the door. It was Christina and Anna-Greta.

‘All set, then,’ Martha said, trying to make her voice steady. ‘Now all we have to do is wait for lunchtime.’

They all nodded and looked very serious.

Fourteen

A few hours later they all took the elevator and went down to the spa together. Martha kept patting the pockets of the white bathrobe, where she was keeping the bags of powder. She looked at Brains out of the corner of her eye. He had put one of the hotel towels on top of everything else in his bag so that the tools were hidden. He looked so exhilarated. Like a little
child who was about to do some mischief. And truth be told, that’s exactly how Martha felt too.

For the sake of appearances, they showered and spent some time in the swimming pool. They splashed around while they waited for the number of people using the pool to increase. Anna-Greta kept on encouraging the others to be patient.

‘It could mean another piece of jewellery,’ she insisted as soon as anyone suggested they should get going. In the end, Brains said he couldn’t wait another minute, then he leaned against Martha and whispered: ‘Have you got the bags?’

She nodded.

‘When the lights flicker, get the powder out and pour it into the steam nozzle. Do it quickly so that nobody notices.’

‘I have seen the films, you know!’ Martha replied.

Brains went off towards the corridor by reception that lead to the fuse box, while Martha went along with the others to the steam room. The henbane would make the spa guests lethargic, but before they got too drowsy Martha would pour the cannabis into the nozzle. Then Christina and Anna-Greta would stagger out of the sauna and pretend to faint, while Martha would hurry to fetch the receptionist for help. As soon as the receptionist had left the counter, Brains would cut the lighting for the entire spa, and he and Rake would break the lock on the cupboard behind reception and empty it of the valuables. Brains had fitted a row of LED lights into his slippers so that he and Rake could see. Martha was a bit worried because she feared that this might give them away, but he assured her it would be all right. The slipper lights would only be used in case of an emergency and he was sure that, in
the general confusion, nobody would notice where the light was coming from. Martha still thought she was right and that Brains didn’t realize the danger of the lights because he was a man and had little imagination. But with age she had learned that sometimes it was simpler just to give in.

When they entered the steam room they were immediately enveloped by a warm cloud and they could hardly see anything. Christina and Anna-Greta sat down on the benches while Martha looked around as best she could in the mist. It seemed as if at least twenty people were in the steam room. She counted a few elderly gentlemen, several ladies and a middle-aged couple, all seated on the two half-moon-shaped benches that faced each other. Martha knew that she had to be careful of those who were sitting closest to her. She could feel the plastic bags chafing inside her swimsuit and began to wish that she wasn’t doing this. It would have been better if Rake had taken care of this part of the plan, but he had said that nowadays he only occupied himself with
living
plants. Dried leaves weren’t his concern. She straightened her back. Christina would just have to do the job—and show him how it was done. Martha sat down at the end of one of the benches, as close to the door as possible so that she would be near to the fresh air outside, and put the birch twigs down next to her. Her hand felt its way to her swimsuit neckline. With the plastic bags in her bosom, she looked like she had in her prime. She sighed; it was so steamy in the room that nobody would be able to admire her figure anyway.

‘How long are we going to sit here for?’ Christina whispered.

‘Not long at all,’ Martha reassured her. ‘I’ll tell you when it’s time.’

‘One certainly wouldn’t want to stay in here for too long,’ Anna-Greta added and put her hand over her mouth. ‘There’s far too much steam.’

The mist hid the facial expressions of the people sitting there, and Martha grew worried. It would be difficult to judge their reactions. She had hardly had a chance to brood over this before the lights flickered. Brains had cut the power off. This was it! Martha’s hand felt for the bags inside her bathing suit. Where were they? At the same moment, she realized that she didn’t have her glasses with her. She, who had preached about how important the little details were. Oh well, the bag of cannabis was bigger and that was all she really needed to know. The man sitting opposite her was beginning to take an interest in her cleavage search.

‘I thought I had three with me when I left home,’ she joked.

The man gaped at her.

‘Well, two perhaps?’ she suggested.

Martha could hear the embarrassed clearing of someone’s throat and somebody else coughing nervously in the mist. Old ladies shouldn’t joke about such things, is that what they were thinking? This made Martha angry; the elderly could have a bit of fun too.

The steam became even more intense and several of the guests covered their faces with their hands. It was now really hot and sticky, and two people got up and left. Martha couldn’t delay any longer. She located the bags, carefully pulled out the one with the henbane powder and opened it. Now she only had to take a few steps to the black pillar and pour all the powder into the nozzle. But she couldn’t
feel anything inside the bag. Martha withdrew her fingers. She had put the powder there herself. Confused, she dug her fingers back into the bag and found a soggy mess right at the bottom. Oh, heavens above! The pouch had a hole in it! In her mind’s eye she imagined how all those who had been swimming in the pool would have inhaled the henbane and fallen asleep. But then a moment later she recognized a man she had almost collided with in the pool and she calmed down. Most of the henbane was probably still in the bag and had just got wet. Did that mean it had lost its effectiveness, or would she start hallucinating herself from the amount that had escaped? Martha didn’t know. The best thing now would be to act quickly and then rush out to the shower. But what if there was so little henbane left that nobody reacted? She dipped into her cleavage again and took out the bag with the cannabis. Thank God that was okay. Rake had told her to put just a small amount of the cannabis in the nozzle, but you had to adapt to the circumstances and Martha decided to use the whole amount. She tottered over to the pillar, and after the nozzle had puffed out a hot cloud of steam she threw in the henbane and the cannabis and covered it all with the birch twigs. Then she sat at the very end of the bench, as close to the door as she could, and waited.

Fifteen

Nurse Barbara stood smoking in her newly renovated flat in Sollentuna. She inhaled deeply and blew out the last of the
smoke before stubbing out the cigarette in her wine glass and closing the window. Ever since the day Director Mattson had taken over the retirement home, she had dreamed of how they could work together. Her and him. The two of them would be successful. He had the money and could invest it; she could run the business. But as time passed, she started to become impatient. She wanted to talk with him about the future. At the same time, she realized that she must tread carefully so that she didn’t scare him off.

‘Hurry up, darling,’ Mattson said, holding out his hands. He lay on his back stark naked. She didn’t need to be Einstein to know what he wanted. As she took the few steps across to the bed, she was thinking that she must make him dependent upon these moments together. Then when she had managed that, she would be able to achieve her goal. Times like these, when she had his full attention, were when she should try and persuade him that her line of thinking was right.

‘Darling, we do have a good time together, don’t we?’

He pulled her down towards him and kissed her in response. She pulled away and gave him a serious look.

‘If only we could see each other more often. I miss you when we aren’t together.’

‘And I miss you too, my darling.’ He tried to embrace her again.

‘Have you thought about your wife? I mean, about the divorce?’

He stopped her and held her tightly to him.

‘Silly billy, a love like ours doesn’t need to be confirmed by marriage. What we have is enough.’ Just then, his cellphone started ringing on the bedside table. On the second ring he
hesitated, and on the third ring he stretched out his hand.

‘Hello, oh, it’s you. Right, yes, OK. Are you having a nice time? Oh, is that right …?’

Barbara could discern the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line; she got up and went into the kitchen. She didn’t like listening to his conversations with his wife; it reminded her that there was another woman in his life. A woman who looked as if she was going to be sticking around for a while longer.

‘So you’re going to stay another week, darling? Right, I understand. Dear me, what a pity. And I was going to take you and the children out for dinner.’

His wife and children had travelled to London. Now it seemed as though their return would be delayed. Perhaps this meant that she and Mattson could be together a little longer? At last the conversation came to an end. Barbara went back into the bedroom.

‘Darling, my family is stuck in London. So I think I’ll take a few more days off work and we can spend some more time together.’

‘How wonderful! But what about the residents?’

‘We’ll get a temp to cover for you.’

‘Can we afford it?’

‘My dear, Diamond House is a veritable profit-making machine. What was the name of the girl who replaced you last time? Katia, wasn’t it? Ring her!’

He stretched out his hands towards her again, and this time she didn’t need any more encouragement. Pleased with how things were developing, she crept in under the covers and put her arms around him.

When the stand-in nurse, Katia, went into the retirement home the next day, she found it unusually quiet. The old people ate their breakfast and gathered in the lounge as usual, but there was no sign of the choir gang. When they didn’t turn up for lunch either, she went up to their rooms and found that everything was neat and tidy, but their coats were all missing. They must be out singing somewhere. She had heard them talking about performances in Strängnäs and Eskilstuna before. Nurse Barbara must simply have forgotten to inform her. Katia smiled to herself. Perhaps they would perform
God in Disguise,
which they had been rehearsing for such a long time. They loved singing and she didn’t begrudge them that joy. She immediately felt calm. They would turn up soon enough.

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