The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules (6 page)

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Authors: Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

Tags: #Humour, #Contemporary

BOOK: The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules
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Eleven

At the spa reception desk a heavily made-up woman gave them a welcoming smile. She was just about to say something when Brains and Rake arrived. Their 1950s polka-dot swimming trunks could be glimpsed under their bathrobes.

‘Would you like some towels?’ the receptionist enquired.

‘Yes, please,’ Martha said, smiling.

‘This reminds me of when I was in Turkey,’ said Rake. ‘Lovely baths, mosaic, women and—’

‘Music?’ Anna-Greta pursed her lips. ‘Don’t get carried away, Rake. Those days are well and truly over!’

The men got their towels and disappeared to take a shower while Martha and the others went into the ladies’ change room. There they found a whole wall of numbered safes.

‘Jackpot, look at that!’ Martha whispered, delighted, and gave Anna-Greta a tap on the shoulder.

‘It’s almost as if they have been waiting for us,’ said Anna-Greta as she started counting the security boxes.

They entered a room with a cold-water pool where one of the walls depicted a Scandinavian coastal landscape.

‘Oh, how beautiful,’ Christina exclaimed. ‘This is the exotic Scandinavia the tourists pay for.’

‘Except in reality it is free,’ Anna-Greta pointed out.

‘But exclusive is expensive,’ said Martha. ‘Especially at the Grand Hotel; only CEOs, heads of state and film stars stay here.’

‘And us, of course,’ Christina piped in.

‘The leaders of the world stay in this hotel,’ Martha continued, with a tremor in her voice.

‘Lucky them. Do they even realize how ordinary people live?’ wondered Christina.

‘That’s the point. They don’t,’ said Martha.

Moving nearer to the pool, they saw that Brains and Rake had already got in. They were swimming at a civilized pace round the pool. The water glimmered in various shades of blue and there was a fresh scent of lavender and rosewater in the air. The bottom of the pool was lined with large black stone slabs and the four steps leading up from the water were framed by high Roman arches. At the end of a narrow corridor to the right they glimpsed the steam room.

‘Over there we can get the steam treatment, with hot birch-leaf wrapping for our feet and an organic peat body pack,’ said Anna-Greta.

‘The peat stimulates breathing and digestion and makes you calm and harmonious,’ Christina cut in.

‘Like I said earlier, that’s not the reason we are here,’ said Martha crossly.

Brains and Rake were climbing up the steps out of the water, looking happy and revived.

‘That was nice. Steam room next,’ said Brains.

They went down the corridor, opened the doors into the wet room and sat down. Inside the steam room hung a hot, heavy mist which made it hard to see anything. A youngish couple and a group of middle-aged men were already seated there. It was quite a large room, with benches arranged like a half-moon around a black pillar which was at eye level and was equipped with nozzles that emitted steam. The air was dripping with humidity and full of the smell of birch leaves.

‘This is going to warp my walking stick,’ Anna-Greta complained.

‘For goodness’ sake, you ought to have left that in the change room,’ Rake groaned.

‘Good thing you didn’t bring your walker along. That would have rusted,’ said Martha.

Brains stared at the pillar, fascinated.

‘Hmm. There’s a hole here that sprays steam. That’ll do perfectly,’ he muttered.

The five of them sat there a while and then went out and showered. After passing the security boxes one more time, they took the elevator back up to the suites.

‘Did you notice the security boxes don’t have any keys? You open and lock them with plastic cards,’ said Martha when they had settled down on the sofa.

‘The same in the gents’ change room too,’ Rake sighed.

‘They don’t even have a magnetic stripe. Every card has a password which opens the box, and there must be at least three hundred boxes down there. Even if we break the code for one of the cards, we’ll still have two hundred and ninety-nine more to go.’

A depressing silence descended on the room because they all knew what this meant. The champagne would have to wait.

But Brains was already fidgeting. ‘I reckon on coming up with something by morning,’ he said.

‘In that case, I think we should meet tomorrow morning at ten o’clock and go through what we should do,’ said Anna-Greta, who was used to morning meetings at the bank.

‘Before we pounce?’ Christina asked solemnly.

‘Exactly!’ said Brains and Martha at the same time.

‘Problems which seem very difficult often have simple solutions,’ said Martha. ‘Now we’ll go down and eat. Food usually helps.’

‘And charge it to the room,’ said Anna-Greta.

Dressed in their best clothes, the five friends took their seats in the hotel’s restaurant, Veranda. The narrow restaurant, which reminded them of one of the decks of the
Titanic
, had tables laid alongside big panoramic windows.

‘Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to sit next to the windows,’ Martha said. ‘What if someone sees us and locks us up in Diamond House again?’

‘Nobody notices who’s dining up here,’ said Rake, but all the same he threw a worried glance out towards the street. He
had started to like the idea of being on the run and didn’t want to be found out straight away.

They ordered
turbot à la meuniere
with
haricots verts
wrapped in bacon and mashed Swedish Mandel potatoes. When the food was brought in, they looked at it in such astonishment that the waiter asked if there was something amiss.

‘No, no, not at all. We’ve simply forgotten what real food looks like. Food without plastic,’ said Martha. They all tucked in and a contented silence washed over the group for a while. Then came the sighs of appreciation.

‘It melts on your tongue like warm butter,’ said Rake as he patted the fish with his fork. ‘On the MS
Kungsholmen
the food in first class used to taste like this.’

‘Amazing. This is real fish,’ said Christina, staring at her plate.

‘And have you noticed how the seasoning is just right? I’d forgotten that food could taste this good. It’s almost enough to make you religious,’ said Brains.

They ate on in happy silence, as one does when eating with relish, and were further amazed by the dessert—
crêpes Suzette flambées
.

Anna-Greta wiped her mouth with the linen serviette for a long time and then finally cleared her throat.

‘This is wonderful, but there is just one thing that I am a bit worried about. We are going to be able to get into those safes, aren’t we? If the hotel charges my credit card—well, I don’t really want to foot the bill for all of this …’

An embarrassed silence ensued.

‘Don’t worry, Anna-Greta,’ Martha said. ‘There’s enough in those safes to cover the bill
and
the Robbery Fund.’

‘But is it right to steal like this?’ Christina wondered.
‘Thou shalt not steal,
it says in —’

‘It depends entirely on
who
is doing the stealing. If you are the state or a bank, it seems to be completely accepted,’ said Martha. ‘So all you have to do is pretend you are managing our pension funds. Then you can do exactly as you wish.’

They all nodded heartily in agreement.

On their way up in the elevator after the meal, Brains asked Martha to come along with him to his room.

‘I’ve got something to show you,’ Brains added.

At first she felt a tremor of excitement, but then she realized he wanted to talk about something serious. They went into his Gustavian suite, fitted out soberly but stylishly in the elegant late eighteenth-century style favoured by King Gustav III. Although his majesty would surely not have tolerated such a mess. Martha couldn’t understand how Brains had managed to make such a mess in such a short time. Clothes were flung carelessly over chairs, a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste lay on the desk, and there was an open carton of milk in the hall. Torn-out pages from a writing pad were scattered throughout the room, and one of his slippers stuck out from under the long heavy curtain by the window.

‘Excuse the mess, but I’ve been busy. Just look at this.’ He went up to the bed and extracted his writing pad from under the mattress.

‘Sit down.’ He gestured to a chair. ‘You read detective stories, take a look at this …’

Martha sat down and watched Brains leaf through his drawings. There was an aura of calm and warmth about him, and she always felt safe in his company. They had known
each other a long time and Martha had always liked him. But they had become a lot closer now that they were partners in crime. She chuckled to herself. Life was funny. You never knew how it would turn out.

‘Here we are. This won’t be as simple as I first thought. It isn’t like in the old films when you stole the keys from the security guard and then just helped yourself to everything.’

‘So even thieves had it easier in the old days?’

‘It would seem so.’ Brains pointed at the open page of his notebook, where he had drawn the locks and hinges of the safes. ‘These safes have electronic locks which are opened and closed with coded cards. Of course, a fancy hotel doesn’t buy its safes from a store. These safes are an expensive and sophisticated model. That system down in the spa would have cost a fortune to install. They may as well have a sticker on them saying “burglar-proof”. I didn’t dare say that to the others. To be honest, I really haven’t a clue how we can pull this off.’

‘Don’t worry, Brains. We’ll arrange a power cut.’

‘That won’t help. Those boxes have a battery back-up and all that will happen is that they will all automatically lock themselves.’

‘Well, then! I know what you can do,’ Martha called out in delight. ‘You can go down early tomorrow morning and arrange a short circuit so that all the boxes become locked. When the spa guests can’t put their valuables in the usual safes, the receptionist will have to offer them somewhere else to keep their jewels and expensive items. Did you see that storage cupboard, the metal one in reception? It looks like one of those old-fashioned cabinets with an ordinary lock. I bet you the receptionist would have to put the jewels in there.’

Brains looked at Martha, astounded.

‘My dear, I’ve been mulling over that problem all evening without finding a solution. Your nickname should be “Brains”!’ he said as he looked at her in a rather wistful and admiring way.

Martha couldn’t help but smile at his praise, but she tried to recover as quickly as possible. She stuttered in response, ‘You men think mainly about the technical stuff. There is the human factor to consider too.’

‘There is one other thing that we need to do, though. We need to create a diversion and also distract the other guests somehow. And I think I have got just the thing!’

Brains smiled, got up and came back with two white plastic bags.

‘Here are some herbs. I got the henbane from Rake, thinking that it could be useful. He has given us a small, safe dose. If we put this into the nozzle on the pillar in the steam room then the powder ought to spread across the entire spa. This should make everyone a bit dozy. That’s when we can open up the cupboard in reception—and steal all the valuables!’

‘And what about the contents of the other pouch?’

‘We’ll put that down the nozzle too. Rake has a bit of cannabis left from his experiments on the balcony, or was it from his days at sea? I can’t remember. Whatever, it makes you happy and gives you the giggles. Just think of all those unfortunate people we’ll be stealing from. At least if they have a few cannabis fumes in their lungs they won’t be sad when they see that all their valuables are gone.’

‘You are a kind man, Brains, always thinking of other people’s feelings,’ Martha said, delighted. ‘We will end up with
happy victims of crime. These people will be laughing their heads off as they search in vain for their jewellery.’ She started giggling, and Brains joined in her merriment.

‘If you can take responsibility for spreading the contents of the pouches in the steam room, then I’ll deal with the locked cupboard behind the reception desk,’ Brains proposed.

‘But what about the others, aren’t they going to do anything?’

‘I think that for this first time we should do most of it ourselves. Then we can’t blame anybody else if it doesn’t succeed. And we will gain some experience too.’

‘Not many people start a new career at our age,’ said Martha.

‘Age equals wisdom!’ Brains answered, and then they laughed again and it was quite a while before Martha left to go back to her own room.

Twelve

Just as Rake started to get undressed he heard a knock at his door. He pulled up his trousers again, put on his jacket and took a few hesitant steps in the direction of the door.

‘It’s me, Christina,’ a small voice said from outside.

Rake quickly combed his hair, tied a cravat round his neck and opened the door.

‘Come in, come in!’

When she entered the room, he immediately noticed that she looked worried.

‘A little champagne?’

She shook her head and sank down onto the sofa.

‘Your suite certainly does look masculine,’ Christina said. Rake watched as she rubbed her hand across her forehead as though she had a headache.

‘I thought it suited me. It has a pure style and it reminds me of my time at sea.’ His cheeks acquired a little colour.

‘To think that people live in such luxury. I heard that guests who return to the hotel always want to have the same room as before. That’s totally understandable. I don’t want to end up in prison. I want to stay here.’

‘But Christina, that’s the whole point. We’ve got to commit crimes in order to live in this sort of luxury,’ he said as he sat down beside her.

‘Well, I don’t want to steal!’ Christina’s voice was shrill. ‘We can’t. It’s not right.’

‘But my dear Christina, you can’t abandon ship now. You’ll be ruining things for the rest of us.’

‘But what about my children? What are they going to say? Emma and Anders will be ashamed of me, and what if they turn their backs on me for ever?’

‘Oh no. They are going to be proud of you. Think of Robin Hood, who stole from the rich. The English love him.’

‘So my children will come to respect me because I steal like Robin Hood? But Robin Hood and safes at the Grand Hotel are not exactly the same thing.’

‘Oh yes they are. We are stealing from the wealthy, and people always make allowances if you steal from those who have a lot of money. Anders and Emma will do that as well. Do you remember the Great Train Robbery in England? Most people think that it was really clever and the man who masterminded it is admired by some.’

‘But that was a gigantic robbery. We are only stealing on a small scale in comparison.’

‘Well, enough to get us into prison.’

‘Yes, rather that than electronic tagging, I suppose. That would be awful. Just imagine going around with one of those ugly ankle tags!’ Christina looked at Rake with tears in her eyes. He put a comforting arm around her.

‘You can’t imagine how brave everybody is going to think you are. It will be a famous robbery coup and you will be a part of it. You will become a legend.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. People are going to talk about you with respect. I am proud of you and I am so glad to have you on board.’

‘Do you really mean that?’ Christina lowered her eyes and Rake saw that he was gaining the upper hand. He knew that he was good at handling women and he continued, confident of victory.

‘You are very pretty, you know that?’ He cupped her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. ‘I have faith in you; I know that you can do this.’ Then he stroked her cheek softly, leaned forward and held her for a long while before finally getting up and pulling her up from the sofa too.

‘I’m going to be with you the whole time. You can trust me,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. Then he led her amicably all the way to the door.

When Christina got back to her room she lay awake a long time with her hands on her chest. With a smile she thought about how sweet Rake had been, and how lovely it had felt when he had embraced her. But when it came to stealing … her parents had been Pentecostalists, always preaching the importance of righteousness. Should she just abandon that now? Every single Sunday they had made her go to church. It had been boring, and if it hadn’t been for the music it would have been unbearable. In her home town so much of life seemed to be about going to church and doing everything right. When the huge Lake Vättern shone like silver without a ripple on the surface, she had believed that God was in a good mood and was stopping the waves. But when there was a storm and waves sputtered against the shore, she was afraid that He was angry and would come and punish her. Her mother and father had said that God would punish her if she did something stupid—and she often did. At the thought of these memories, Christina couldn’t help but smile to herself there in the dark.

Her parents had run a fabric shop and hoped that she would take over. And perhaps that might have come about if she hadn’t fallen in love with Ollie, the tenor in the church choir. He always wanted them to go to the old Brahehus Castle and look at the view across Lake Vättern. The ruins were fascinating, with their thick walls and empty black eyes for windows. They frightened her and tempted her—as did Ollie. After just a few visits, he pulled her down behind some bushes and she lost her virginity. Just like now, she had been unable to resist doing something new and exciting. But when she became pregnant, her parents forced her to marry
him. Things had admittedly gone well for Ollie and they had a lot of money during all their years together. But the marriage was never a happy one, and after years as a housewife it was a relief when the children grew up and she finally got a divorce. After that, she opened a milliner’s shop with the money from the settlement, and her new life proved much more rewarding. She studied literature and there was the choir and her friends. It had been such fun. Christina closed her eyes and thought about Rake. If he became a criminal, she would too. It was like those outings to the old Brahehus Castle. Something forbidden and exciting …

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