The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules (15 page)

It simply couldn’t be true! Martha leaned over the piano, stared wide-eyed, shook her head and looked up again. No, she must simply be tired and confused after the journey. As soon as she got some food in her, she would feel better. Some nice roast lamb and a glass of wine and everything would all be all right. It would be lovely to eat a meal without the whole table rocking as it had had a tendency to do on the cruise ship. Martha tried to convince herself, but deep inside she knew that something was very seriously wrong, that somebody, quite simply … no, she couldn’t believe it. She shook her head and went in to the others without saying a word.

After lunch, Martha sat in silence while the others discussed whether they should mourn the loss of half of the ransom money. In the end, they thought they should settle for what they had got, because despite everything they now had more money than they could ever have dreamed of in their old life. The only one who complained was Anna-Greta.

‘How are we going to find that money?’ she asked. ‘It is ours after all.’

‘Not so loud,’ said Rake, holding his finger to his lips. ‘And I don’t know about it being “ours” …’

‘But if we’re not going to go looking for it, what are we doing here? Weren’t we meant to be going to prison?’

Rake kicked her under the table.

‘Things don’t always go exactly according to plan,’ Martha
answered, thinking about the missing paintings. She still hadn’t dared to say anything.

‘I agree with Anna-Greta. It is time for us to move on,’ said Rake. ‘Here it’s the same old luxury food every day with strange sauces and jellies. An ordinary hamburger would taste really good.’

‘Yes, good, plain, everyday food. I saw what they served in prison—all properly nutritious too—meatballs, fish and salad,’ Christina added.

Martha ate the last of the strawberry sorbet, pushed her plate aside and carefully wiped her mouth with the linen serviette. Before she could say anything, Anna-Greta started speaking again.

‘I don’t know what we are doing. We were only going to be here a few days, a week at the most. Now it is already the first of April and before we know it, two weeks will have passed. The idea was that we should leave Diamond House to have it better in pris—’

‘Quiet!’ hissed Rake.

‘I mean, have a better permanent residence.’

They became silent again. Martha looked at Anna-Greta out of the corner of her eye. She was right, of course. However much fun it was to steal, they couldn’t live in the hotel forever. Besides, they had also acquired the money that would gild their life
after
the stretch in prison. It was just that the police had not done their bit. Imagine how silly everything could become. The police did not even suspect them, nor had anybody contacted them from the retirement home. Added to that was the problem of the missing paintings. Martha cleared her throat.

‘Now listen, everybody, we have a little problem.’

‘Martha is going to give us another speech again,’ Rake commented.

‘We should have this talk up in one of our rooms,’ said Martha.

When she said this, they could clearly hear her regional dialect, and Brains knew this was a sign that she was very tired. On their way up in the elevator, he took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Martha wanted to rest her head against his chest and be consoled, but she restrained herself.

‘Is there anything in here that looks different, do you think?’ she asked when they had all settled on the sofa with a cup of coffee and cake. Well, all of them except Rake, who sat on an armchair after having sat on Martha’s knitting yet again.

‘No,’ said Rake quickly.

‘You can at least look first,’ muttered Martha.

‘It does perhaps look a little different, that’s true. They have cleaned the room, after all,’ he said, getting up and going to the piano.

‘Shall we sing something? “Towards the Sea”?’ he asked, but was cut off by a shrill cry.

‘My paintings are gone!’ Christina roared.

‘I don’t know about
yours
,’ said Brains.

‘By God,’ Anna-Greta called out and put her hands in front of her face. ‘Now we’re going to owe them thirty million.’

‘Yes, you can see for yourself,’ said Martha. ‘Not only do we have to find a hiding place for the money, we must also find the paintings.’

‘What are my children going to say? They won’t be proud of me at all. Robin Hood never lost any of his loot,’ snuffled Christina, and she had to blow her nose.

‘You do know that we have spirited away some of the most valuable paintings in Sweden? Our negligence has led to the loss of two national treasures!’ said Anna-Greta, giving Martha a severe look. ‘This is really not according to the plan!’

‘That’s enough! This isn’t Martha’s fault, we all agreed to this,’ said Brains. ‘Perhaps we can find the paintings again.’

‘But how? We can hardly go around asking for a Monet and a Renoir,’ said Christina.

‘Quite simply, I think we ought to own up to what we have done,’ Martha said. ‘The time is ripe. The police don’t seem to be on our trail. If we give ourselves up, we might get a lighter sentence.’

‘And help to find the paintings,’ said Brains. ‘You are very clever!’

There was silence for a moment. Martha fetched the champagne to lighten the mood, but they all shook their heads.

‘Next stop, prison. Couldn’t you fetch some water instead, so that we can gradually acclimatize?’ said Rake.

‘Have you noticed that they don’t have pea soup here? Just think, a really good thick pea soup with lots of pork in it,’ said Brains, licking his lips.

‘You talk about food, but just think of that mosaic bathtub. It is far too low for my hip. I’m sure they won’t have that sort of tub in prison,’ said Anna-Greta.

‘And the cinema here is much smaller than an ordinary cinema. And besides, we have already seen all the best films. In prison they will probably have rather different films for real men,’ said Rake and he grinned.

Christina looked at him with suspicion.

‘What do you mean?’

But before he had time to answer, Martha butted in.

‘OK, we can vote on it. How many of us vote for prison?’

A long murmuring followed, but nobody wanted to put up a hand.

‘Has anyone got a different idea?’

They discussed the matter back and forth and finally arrived at the conclusion that it would be good form to give themselves up. Nobody wanted the police to come rushing into the suite and put handcuffs on them. It would be much better for them to take their baggage and their walkers and knock on the door of the police station. Although they couldn’t take the shopping trolley with them.

‘Where shall we hide the money until we get out?’ Rake wondered. Martha looked around and waited for suggestions from the others. Nobody had any ideas.

‘Brains, you always have good ideas …’

He stroked his chin a few times.

‘Yes, I do have an idea, but it’s so crazy that I don’t know if you will accept it.’

‘What is it?’ Martha asked.

Brains fetched the shopping trolley and started to demonstrate. This relieved the atmosphere somewhat because the problem of where to put the money had been worrying them all. The crazy idea Brains had was completely feasible. In theory, at least. Everybody except Anna-Greta put up their hand to support him, but as she didn’t have any better ideas, Brains got to do as he wished. Finally, they also voted about whether they should go to the police or not, but there were still differences of opinion so they adjourned on that one. Just a few days more, then they could probably give themselves up,
Martha thought. But first they must hide the money. Brains looked at the clock.

‘We’ll have time to do this today,’ he said, ‘but take as much money as you need first.’

The others agreed with him and Martha, Christina, Anna-Greta and Rake gathered around the shopping trolley and helped themselves to their share. For a few moments, Christina wondered whether she should give some of the money to Emma and Anders, but the children were adults, after all, and ought to be able to manage for themselves. When they were all finished, Brains asked Martha if she could help him choose some pictures on the Internet. He opened home pages for various parachuting clubs and selected the most joyful and colourful parachutes he could find. Martha realized what Brains was intending to do. She then searched on the Internet for texts about golden handshakes and bonuses. As the sheets of paper came out of the printer, Martha picked them up, cut out what she wanted and put them in the shopping trolley on top of the banknotes.

When it was almost four o’clock, Martha and Brains left the hotel and set off for their next destination—the Modern Museum.

‘Has it occurred to you that people might think that this is a joke and not a serious installation?’ said Brains, who was starting to have doubts. ‘It is the first of April today!’

‘No, I’m mostly thinking about how we have lost two paintings and half of the money so far. It would be great if we don’t lose the last banknotes too.’

‘But it has been fun, hasn’t it?’

‘Oh yes, it has indeed,’ said Martha, blushing.

They went out of the hotel, walked past the National Museum, and then over the bridge to the little island, Skeppsholmen. After managing the steep hill, they reached the main entrance to the Modern Museum. When they entered the museum, the guard wanted to stop them, but Martha said that her walker had broken and she must use the shopping trolley to lean against as she walked. Then they were let in and, after hanging up their coats, they went into the exhibit halls. They wandered around for quite a while and finally caught sight of a podium on which there was a sculpture of a man stretching out his hand.

‘Brains, are you thinking the same as me?’

‘Yes, it’s perfect!’ he chuckled, and when the exhibit hall was empty for a few moments they lifted the shopping trolley up and put it on the podium in front of the outstretched hand. It looked so ridiculous that Martha could hardly keep from laughing, but she pulled herself together and lifted up the lid of the trolley so that the parachute pictures and the banknotes could be seen. Then, next to it, she taped an article about the finance sharks and their bonuses and, to finish it off, Brains put up a homemade sign:
‘The Miser
, by the Countess Christina Nobleheap,’ it said in fancy gold lettering. The installation was now complete. To name the artist Christina had been obvious to both Brains and Martha, since their friend had been so sad about the paintings having disappeared and they wanted to cheer her up. They took two steps back and looked at their handiwork.

‘Do you really think this will be left in peace?’ Martha wondered.

‘Nobody dares move a work of art. Especially if it has been made by a countess.’

‘No, that’s true, of course,’ Martha mumbled, without being entirely convinced.

They walked around in the exhibit hall and observed their installation from different angles and thought it looked really professional. With that, they felt that they were done for the day. They fetched their coats and were just leaving when somebody called out after them.

‘You there! Come back here!’ They turned round and saw one of the guards running towards them. Behind him you could see the shopping trolley. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Martha felt a somersault in her tummy and Brains swallowed and put his cap on.

‘Forgive an old person who wanted a bit of fun,’ he said. ‘We thought it looked better like that.’

‘Are you completely mad? You can’t destroy a work of art!’

‘But it did look good, didn’t it?’ Martha insisted.

‘April Fool! We were just—’ Brains gave a forced laugh, and for the first time in her life Martha would have liked to have heard Anna-Greta’s neigh.

‘An April Fool’s joke? But for goodness’ sake, they are usually funny,’ the guard grunted, handing the shopping trolley back to them. ‘Now get out of here before I call the management.’

Martha became sulky.

‘If you think that it is only young people who can have fun, you’ve got another thing coming! Us old people have our fun and games too, you can be sure of that!’ Having said this, she snatched back the shopping trolley, pulled the lid down and held out her hand. ‘We want the sign back too.’

Not until he had fetched it did they leave the museum
and return, crestfallen, to the hotel. When the others saw they still had the shopping trolley, a dark cloud seemed to cross their faces.

‘Oh well, let’s have a drink and we’ll be sure to think of something else,’ said Rake, trying to console them. He could identify himself as a failure and immediately this thought emboldened him. Just think how often he had done things wrong and how many times everything had gone to pot, but in the end things usually sorted themselves out. He fetched glasses and something to pour into them and proposed going out onto the balcony. The sun was still shining, and when they put their overcoats on it was really nice to sit outside. While the sun slowly descended over the water, they sipped their drinks, totally occupied with their own thoughts. Rake knocked his drink back and put his arm round Christina.

‘We’ll sort this out, my dear, don’t you worry,’ he said.

‘I’m getting cold, I must go inside and change into warmer tights,’ she answered, but then suddenly stopped. ‘Rake, look!’ she shouted in delight, pointing at the pipe going down from outside the balcony. Rake followed her gaze and could only see the roof and the wide black drainpipes. Not until she lifted her skirt and showed her legs did he understand what she had in mind.

‘Now listen, don’t be disappointed. We’ve solved this, Christina and I,’ Rake said. ‘We can hide the banknotes in the drainpipe. Ladies, who has some tights that I can borrow?’

‘I’ve got some ordinary ones,’ said Martha.

‘I’ve got some modern, patterned ones,’ said Christina.

‘Mine aren’t exactly modern, but they do have a reinforced heel,’ said Anna-Greta.

‘Well, then,’ Rake summed up. ‘We’ve got about nine thousand five-hundred-kronor notes, if I’ve counted right. We’ll stuff them into the tights. Then we need some plastic wrapping and some rope.’