The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules

by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

  ‘You’d have to blame the architecture schools,’ said Rake. ‘I can’t understand why they have to study for years if they’re only going to design square blocks. I could manage that when I was four years old. And mine looked nicer too.’

  ‘Perhaps you ought to have been an architect then?’

  ‘Welcome to the Grand Hotel!’ a handsome porter interrupted them and bowed.

  ‘Thank you very much,’ Martha answered and tried to look as if she was a woman of the world. But however much she smiled, her voice gave away a certain lack of confidence. Being on the run and turning criminal at the same time was rather stressful at her age.

  Nine

  The walkers rolled nicely and smoothly on the wall-to-wall carpet all the way to the reception desk. Martha looked with delight at the deep blue edging with the beautiful gold crowns. She thought of all the royalty that must have stayed here. A glance at the edge of the carpet and they would have seen their own crowns several times over.

  It took a while to check in because the staff discreetly did a check on their bank card. Luckily, Anna-Greta was well-off and there was enough in her savings account to cover them all, but nevertheless, they all felt nervous. The others had little more than their pensions and none of them had experience being in such grand surroundings. Finally, the reception staff confirmed their bookings and they were welcomed with smiles to the hotel.

  ‘We have to take the second door to the left after the stairs,’ said Brains, taking the lead. ‘You girls can have the Princess Lilian suite, where the big stars usually get to stay, and me and Rake can take two of the luxury suites.’

  ‘Heavens above, that will be far too expensive,’ said Anna-Greta, always the careful bookkeeper.

  ‘But, my dear, have you completely forgotten? We do not intend to pay,’ Martha whispered.

  In good cheer they walked along the corridor leaning on their walkers. After all that training in the gym they had good balance and didn’t really need them, but they knew that their walking aids could come in very useful all the same. Martha smiled. Who would suspect an old lady with a walker of any criminal activity? And the basket at the front was good for keeping loot in too.

  They continued slowly down the corridor until they saw a door on the left.

  ‘Here it is,’ said Brains self-confidently. He opened the door and entered, with the others close behind him. His eyes were like saucers. ‘Not much here that reminds me of Sundbyberg, I’ll say that.’

  ‘Heavens above, what a sight! The whole room is shining as if it was gold,’ said Christina.

  ‘And what lovely red upholstered chairs. Is this how rich people really live?’ wondered Brains.

  ‘But …’ muttered Rake. ‘Doesn’t it smell rather too much of perfume?’

  ‘I hardly dare go in. Have you seen the mirrors and the beautiful washbasins? Is this the Princess Lilian suite?’ Anna-Greta asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ muttered Brains. ‘Perhaps rather too many mirrors for that …’

  ‘Eight mirrors in the same room,’ said Martha. ‘And just look at those fancy chandeliers on the ceiling, and all the marble and lamps over the washbasins.’

  ‘But where are the beds?’ wondered Christina, who was feeling tired and wanted to rest a while.

  ‘The beds?’ Brains looked around him. At that very same moment they all heard a very familiar sound.

  ‘Well, I’ll be damned … the bathroom?’ Rake smirked. ‘I was wondering why there were eight washbasins.’

  Amidst a great deal of laughter they left the ladies’ room and made their way to the elevators. Brains put his plastic card into the reader and pressed the button for the eighth floor.

  ‘My apologies. I didn’t have my wits about me. The Princess Lilian suite is on the top floor.’

  While they were going up in the elevator, Martha was deep in thought. Mixing up a luxury suite and a ladies’ room was not a good omen. And if they were going to get all confused while they were sober, what would happen after a drink or two at the bar?

  Ten

  ‘So what do we do now?’ wondered Christina after she had done several laps of the luxury suite and been overwhelmed by the choices available to her. She had mostly been fascinated by the televisions everywhere—all of which she had turned on. ‘It’s hard to know which TV to look at, and then there are so many other things to do here too.’

  She looked about her, taking in the opulent rooms. Should they make themselves at home in the library, play the grand piano, watch a movie in the private cinema or just sink into the closest enormous armchair? That big bathtub with the lovely mosaic and the sauna were also very tempting. The housekeeper had told them that they could have green lighting and jungle music in there, or blue lights if they preferred. Or perhaps she should just lie down and have a rest in the large double bed, which came complete with an amazing view of the royal palace across the water.

  ‘You can look at the stars if you’d like. There’s a telescope in the suite,’ said Brains. ‘Or why not point the telescope at the palace? I’m sure the King will be doing something exciting.’

  ‘But he doesn’t even live there!’ Martha pointed out.

  ‘Never mind telescopes and TVs, is there a loo in here somewhere?’ Rake wondered, looking about him.

  ‘One on your right, one in the bathroom and two more a bit further away,’ Christina informed him.

  ‘Stop, one john is sufficient, I can hardly use four at once!’

  ‘There are four showers too. You could use all four of those,’ joked Martha.

  After they had all unpacked, everyone settled in the armchairs with a glass of champagne for a first run-through of their plans.

  ‘Planning is important,’ said Brains. ‘We must map the entire hotel. When we discover where the richest ones hang out, then we pounce.’

  ‘I’ve worked it out already. There are forty-two luxury suites and many of the guests use the spa facilities and the pool,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘They are bound to put their watches and bracelets in the lockers there.’

  ‘Brilliant! We shall steal their valuables. Simple. And then we shall hide the loot so that we can use the money when we get out of prison,’ said Martha.

  ‘Sounds like you’ve been reading too many crime novels,’ Rake muttered.

  ‘Oh no. All major criminals sit out their prison terms and then use the money when they get out. Like the British train robbers, for example.’

  ‘Then we’ll follow their example,’ Anna-Greta decided. Her eyes shone with excitement.

  ‘Now listen, let’s go down to the spa and have a look around. At the same time, we can do some water gymnastics in the pool,’ Martha suggested.

  ‘No, no, we didn’t come here for exercise—’ Rake exclaimed, but managed to stop himself just before adding, ‘you fitness fiend.’

  ‘But if we do steal lots of stuff, where shall we hide it all?’ Christina wanted to know.

  ‘We’ll think of something,’ said Martha, blushing violently because she hadn’t thought of that.

  ‘Now listen to me. We must commit the robbery before the authorities find us. Why not do it tomorrow or the day after?’ suggested Brains. ‘And then we can stay on here a while.’

  ‘Stay on at the scene of the crime, God help us!’ said Martha, who had never read of such a thing in any detective story. ‘The scene of the crime is where you return to, not where you take up residence!’

  ‘That is precisely why the police won’t look for us here in the first place,’ said Brains with a flourish. ‘Come on, let’s get changed and meet at the spa later.’

  When the men had gone, Christina browsed the hotel’s leaflets while she filed her nails slowly and with considerable care.

  ‘I think we ought to get a beauty treatment down in the spa,’ she said, pointing with her nail file.

  ‘Spa and beauty treatment?’ Martha gave her friend a weary look. Christina was always reading about ways to keep yourself looking young. When
she was fifty-five she had had a facelift, but that was something she forbade the others to refer to. She wanted everybody to think that she was naturally attractive and that her beauty shone from within. She hadn’t even mentioned the fact that she had had her teeth whitened. Perhaps it was her upbringing. Her parents had forbidden her to use make-up, and throughout her childhood she had been told it was sinful, and that you should accept your natural appearance because that which God had created was a gift. So as a teenager she had been forced to do her make-up clandestinely. Now she was equally secretive about her cosmetic operations.

  ‘Now listen to this,’ Christina went on. ‘There are spa treatments that can dissolve emotional and physical blocks and give your body a pleasant sense of calmness. And in addition we can have an eye mask which reduces all signs of tiredness and age.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d look any younger even if I wore a mask over my whole face,’ said Martha.

  ‘It is beneficial to massage the important marma points in your eye area. This signals to the nervous system that the musculature should retain its vigour,’ Christina went on, clearly fascinated by the hotel’s brochure.

  ‘Marma? What is that?’ asked Martha.

  ‘No, this is better,’ said Anna-Greta, who had now found the hotel’s spa and fitness brochure. ‘We can have a sixty-minute facial acupuncture treatment. The needles stimulate production of collagen and strengthen your body’s connective tissues.’

  ‘Just what I’ve longed for,’ said Martha, rolling her eyes.

  ‘The treatment leaves your skin firm and soft,’ Anna-Greta went on.

  ‘Firm and soft. That was how men used to describe my breasts,’ said Christina in a different tone of voice. ‘Unfortunately, the same can’t really be said about them now.’

  ‘Listen to me. We are on a stealing spree, nothing else,’ Martha said authoritatively and picked up all the brochures. ‘Never forget the reason we are here.’

  The ladies nodded, changed into their bathing costumes and put on the hotel’s white bathrobes. On their way to the door, Martha paused.

  ‘When we get down there, have a good look around for safes where guests can store valuables.’

  ‘Are we really going to commit a proper crime?’ Christina suddenly exclaimed.

  ‘Shush! No, no, just a little adventure,’ said Martha, entering the elevator and giving her a calming pat on the shoulder. Then she felt a gnawing worry deep inside. Would Christina ruin the whole thing?

  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 ha
ricots 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.