The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules

by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

  ‘Anna-Greta, don’t take this the wrong way, but what you asked earlier about men …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Don’t talk so loudly, and try to restrain your peals of laughter. Men like to be the ones who are seen and heard.’

  Martha was amazed that she had dared to be so direct, but she only meant well. Then she had taken Anna-Greta with her to the ladies’. There she had lent her a lipstick and helped her to comb her hair into a more becoming style. She had persuaded her to loosen the bun on her neck, and with her hair falling diagonally across her brow she looked more attractive. Martha had also lent her a skirt and a blouse that suited her well. But then Anna-Greta had turned into her old self. She had started to chat with an elderly gentleman and, in her eagerness, her voice had become just as piercing as usual. Then it got even louder. Martha shook her head. Soon he was bound to be put off. However, the evening wore on and the man made no attempt to leave. Instead, the two of them stood very close to one another and talked away, and when Anna-Greta let off one of her classic neighs, he didn’t even react. Had Anna-Greta finally met a soulmate? Indeed, anything could happen once you escaped the isolation of the retirement home. Martha thought about how much they had actually achieved during their days of freedom and wished that more people in retirement homes could have such adventures. Although something was seriously wrong when you had to become a criminal to have a bit of fun in your old age!

  Anna-Greta’s neighing laugh could be heard again, but now the man had put a hand on her shoulder. Lord above, he seemed to want to ask her to dance—yes, now he turned round, put his hand under her arm and started to move towards the dance floor. Martha saw that Anna-Greta really had met Mr Right. The man had a hearing aid. He had probably turned it off.

  The music started up again and just as Martha was wondering whether she would dare to have a slow dance, Brains came up to her. Since she was only too willing to hold him, she hoped he would ask her to dance so that they would have a few moments together. Unfortunately, her romantic notions were spoilt because as soon as they got onto the dance floor, Brains leaned forward and whispered in her ear:

  ‘Nurse Barbara is here. What shall we do now?’

  Twenty-Eight

  The choir gang became the main topic of conversation at the retirement home in the days following their disappearance. Where had they gone? Nobody had seen the five of them and Katia had tried and tried to get hold of Nurse Barbara but without success. She had no more luck when she phoned the police. Inspector Lönnberg told her yet again how impossible it was for them to help.

  ‘The police don’t have the authority, you see,’ he said. ‘If the old people want to go off on their own, then let them do so. It is nothing we can interfere in. And remember that they do have each other. I am sure there is no need to worry.’

  ‘But I am worried,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘The law is as it is, you see,’ he went on, and finally Katia put the receiver down. It was a waste of time talking to him, but what else could she do? She didn’t even dare think what Nurse Barbara would say when she found out what had happened. Katia put her coffee cup down and went out into the lounge. As usual, calm and quiet reigned. A television was on in the corner but the sound was turned off, and the two men who usually played chess had dozed off. An elderly lady was reading, and her friend sat and looked out through the window. It wasn’t just quiet, it was boring. She was just about to get ready to go home when the door opened and one of the clients called out:

  ‘You’ve got a visitor.’

  ‘A visitor?’ Katia hadn’t booked any visit.

  ‘It’s somebody asking for Nurse Barbara and you are her replacement, aren’t you?’

  Katia nodded, smoothed her skirt and went to the visiting room. There sat a middle-aged man with a crew cut and a beard. He had a ring in his ear and a leather jacket, and tattoos on his wrists. He stood up when she came in.

  ‘I am Nils Engström, I’m here to visit Dad.’

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Yes, Bertil Engström, Rake, you know.’

  ‘Oh yes, Rake. Can I give him a message?’

  ‘No, I want to see him.’

  ‘His room is over there, but—’

  ‘I have promised to visit him every time we dock in Stockholm, and that’s a promise I intend to keep.’

  Before she could stop him, he was on the way to his father’s room. She hurried after him but couldn’t stop him from opening the door.

  ‘Well? Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know, but—’

  ‘So you don’t know where he is? What the hell do you do at this place?’

  Katia blushed.

  ‘Rake and the others in the choir are probably out singing.’

  ‘Oh I see, that explains it,’ said the man, somewhat calmer, and he sank into a chair. ‘It’s a pity to miss him. I’m here so rarely, we don’t always get the chance to leave the ship.’

  ‘So you are a seaman?’

  ‘Yeah, like my dad. We lived fairly near the docks in Gothenburg. You could see the river from the hill and all the ships by the quays. Dad used to talk about when he was at sea, and he took me to the Maritime Museum.’

  Katia sat down on the chair next to him. Rake’s son looked rather wild but nevertheless seemed quite a decent man.

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘Usch, they weren’t married long. Dad had an eye for the ladies. It was tough for her, she deserved better. She never remarried. I think she loved Dad all her life.’

  ‘Rake is liked here too,’ said Katia.

  ‘Dad can be rather curt, but he’s a nice guy. We used to go fishing in the moat. He put out lines and we would sit there and talk about the sea. I ended up going to sea.’

  Katia smiled.

  ‘We caught pike and eels, and even hooked the odd salmon. But then the water got dirty and that was the end of that. Bloody shame.’

  He got up.

  ‘Anyway, best be on my way. We leave port tomorrow. But say hello from me.’

  Katia got up and accompanied him to the door. There stood Henrik, ninety-three, leaning on his stick.

  ‘It’s really quiet here, you know,’ he said. ‘None of the choir gang has been seen since Sunday.’

  ‘What the hell are you saying?’ Nils turned to Katia. ‘Not since Sunday? You didn’t tell me that!’

  ‘I have tried speaking to the police but they won’t listen. I’m sorry. It’d probably be better if a relative phones them,’ said Katia.

  ‘Then that’s what I’ll bloody well do, and I’ll report him missing.’

  Nils pulled out his mobile and keyed in 112 to the police.

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘Nurse Barbara is here on the ship? It can’t be true! Oh, Lord above!’ Martha exclaimed in such a loud voice that she almost drowned out the dance music. Instinctively, she took hold of Rake’s hand as she passed him and pulled him back towards the bar counter. They had to warn the others.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ suggested Rake, but then he saw that Nurse Barbara was not alone. She was in the company of Director Mattson. ‘No, wait, take it easy. Those two only have eyes for each other.’

  The five bided their time and tried to make themselves as invisible as possible.

  ‘Perhaps she hasn’t noticed us,’ said Christina after the couple had disappeared down to the cabin decks.

  ‘They didn’t see anything. They didn’t even stop to get a drink,’ said Brains.

  ‘That isn’t why they are here,’ Rake pointed out.

  ‘She is probably just as afraid of being seen as we are. Now we know for sure that they’re having an affair,’ said Martha.

  ‘They’ll be between the sheets as usual,’ commented Rake.

  ‘Must you always—’ Anna-Greta started to say, but she was cut off by Martha.

  ‘Barbara mustn’t see us. What if she messes up everything?’

  ‘Then we shall simply ask her what she is doing on the ship with Matt
son,’ said Rake with a wink.

  They all consoled themselves with that, but the jovial mood had disappeared. The only one who didn’t seem to care was Anna-Greta. Out of the corner of her eye, Martha could see that the elderly gentleman had steered her out onto the dance floor again. Martha was pleased for her, but at the same time hoped that the whole thing wouldn’t end in disaster. Anna-Greta’s hip was not what it ought to be after her faked fall at the National Museum. Luckily for them, she at least hadn’t fallen for real.

  ‘Righto, we might as well call it a night. I, for one, am exhausted. See you at breakfast,’ said Martha, who was worried about the day to come and wanted to get some sleep. The others nodded and headed for their cabins, all except Anna-Greta, who remained on the dance floor. What if Nurse Barbara were to come back? On the other hand, her friend seemed to be having such a good time with her new beau that Martha didn’t want to spoil things. Anna-Greta could probably take care of herself.

  Early next morning, Martha found it difficult to wake Anna-Greta up and Martha wondered what time she had actually got to bed.

  ‘As if I was thinking about the time,’ Anna-Greta answered with glowing eyes, and Martha couldn’t get her to say any more. It wasn’t until after the morning meeting in the cabin that she provided an explanation.

  ‘We’re going to meet again—his name is Gunnar,’ she said, bright red in the face, just as the captain’s voice was heard over the loudspeakers. Anna-Greta went quiet and they all looked at one another. Martha clapped her hands.

  ‘Right you are, my friends, we have arrived in Helsinki. It is time to go down to the car deck.’

  They all nodded as if in silent agreement and got up and left the cabin. They followed the flow of people waiting to use the elevators down to the car deck. When they reached the partition beside the ramp, they heard the engines racing during the docking manoeuvre. Martha and Brains exchanged quick looks. The empty black shopping trolleys were still there. The five of them stood there for a while until the ship had come to a stop and the deck crew signalled to the car drivers that it was time for them to drive out. After that, Martha and Brains took hold of their walkers and started to walk towards the exit while the others pulled the shopping trolleys with them. Then the little group calmly walked out from the ship and down the external car ramp. Nobody stopped them and nobody called after them. But if they had been stopped, Martha had prepared for that too. She would have demanded to speak to the management. Then she would have complained about how badly they were treated because they were old—and no company would be prepared to risk being accused of ‘age-fascism’—or ageism, as it was called nowadays.

  Once out on the quayside, the tension in the group lessened because they all felt certain that it wouldn’t be difficult to collect the ransom. In the old Market Hall they bought some smoked salami sausage, slices of ham and Swiss cheese and then took the jolting tram into the city centre. At the fancy old Fazer coffee house they enjoyed the coffee, had a sandwich and bought some cream cakes, after which they ended their Helsinki outing by buying liquorice, Kinuski fudge and a large stock of cloudberry liqueur.

  ‘Do we have to collect the ransom now? Can’t we wait until later?’ Christina wondered, as she had begun to get nervous. They were going to collect the ransom money on the return journey and then they would irrevocably become major criminals.

  ‘Like I always say, at our age there is no “later.” It has already passed,’ Martha replied, cutting her off. She felt that she must put her foot down. They must all stand united now. ‘Incidentally, I saw that they had Belgian chocolate in the shop on board. Let’s go and do a bit of shopping.’

  You didn’t need to say any more to distract Christina.

  They went back on board the ship. Martha led her friend by the arm and they went towards the shop. Martha bought five boxes of Belgian chocolates for Christina, and while she stood in the queue to pay she ran through the whole plan in her head. When the ferry got back to Stockholm they would find two identical shopping trolleys like theirs in the partition. Two which they would swap for their own … the only thing that distinguished the trolleys was the tiny hole that Brains had drilled for the reflector arm to stick out—a hole that was so small no one but themselves would notice it.

  ‘Here, take this chocolate and go and rest a while. Then we’ll meet in an hour in my cabin and have a drink before eating,’ said Martha, handing the carrier bag to Christina. Her friend clutched the present against her chest and did as Martha said.

  Shortly afterwards, down on the car deck, when Martha and Brains crept along the side of the ship towards the partition, she wanted to slip her hand into his for support, but she restrained herself. They did, after all, have shopping trolleys as well as umbrellas to deal with, and they did not have enough hands. They proceeded slowly and cautiously to the hiding place close to the ramp, and when they were almost there they put up their umbrellas. This was because Brains had said that the surveillance cameras would certainly be on. Once at the partition, they stopped and inhaled deeply. Martha hardly dared look. There were the rain clothes, boots and—yes, right there in the far corner stood two new black Urbanista shopping trolleys just like their own. Now it all depended on whether the museum had put the ten million in them—quite a hefty addition to their pension, as Martha had called it.

  Martha really wanted to take the shopping trolleys right away, but the minute she took them up to the cabin she and her friends could be discovered. It must all be taken care of much more discreetly. The trolleys would have to stay where they were until it was time to disembark when they were back in Stockholm again the next morning. But still. She ought to open them to check that she and her friends hadn’t been conned. Perhaps she could lift the cloth lid a little? First she just touched the trolley quickly, then she pushed it hard. But when she heard the rustle and thought she could feel the bundles of banknotes inside, she was so pleased that she took several dance steps. Brains quickly stopped her, but she saw the warmth in his eyes. She wanted to hug him, but that, too, would have to wait. Not until they had put their own shopping trolleys next to the others, turned round and were going into the elevator again did they close their umbrellas and give each other a big hug.

  Up in the cabin again, Martha and Brains told their friends what had happened. After a short discussion they all went into their own cabins for a short and well-needed rest. Martha pulled out her knitting and sat on the bed with some soft, comfy cushions behind her back. Now the museum would get two shopping trolleys with old newspapers, and they themselves would get their ten million. Not a bad exchange. But would it work? She racked her brains, it seemed to be far too easy. But she didn’t get any further in her thoughts before she fell asleep with her knitting on her tummy, and she only woke up again when Brains knocked on the cabin door. It was time for dinner.

  When they gathered together in the dining room they were still looking very pleased with themselves, but to be on the safe side they kept an eye out for Nurse Barbara. They looked keenly around them in every direction, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘She and Mattson will be lying there and—’ Rake started, but he was cut off by Anna-Greta.

  ‘Not again,’ she retorted haughtily and gave him a severe look.

  ‘But she’ll be on her back in the cabin,’ Rake persisted. He smelled of garlic again and held a large beer glass in his hand. Anna-Greta gave him a disapproving look and Christina quickly stretched out her hand to quieten him. But then Anna-Greta suddenly thawed and the wrinkles between her eyes vanished.

  ‘You know what, Brains, if Nurse Barbara is in love with Mattson, then let her be.’

  Thirty

  It had already got dark and Chief Inspector Petterson observed the lights of the city glowing in the rain outside. Once again he was working overtime because the painting theft was haunting him and giving him no peace. He had tried to find leads from the surveillance cameras at the National Museum, and even though the camera in the ro
om with the Impressionists hadn’t worked there were, of course, other cameras. The recordings ought to show all those who were at the museum that confounding day, and he ought to be able to find the thief—or thieves—among the visitors. He had gone through the material thoroughly but had not discovered anything suspicious. On Floor 1, where they had Modern Design, you could see three elderly gentlemen and a family with two children who were wandering around aimlessly. In one corner of the exhibit, two women in their thirties looked at coloured glass in a display cabinet and an elderly woman studied objects from Gustavsberg. None of them looked like thieves. The visitors walked slowly and looked at the displays with interest.

  On the way up the large majestic staircase to Floor 2, you could see two girls with high-heeled shoes. He zoomed in on them. No, no paintings there, but goodness they were wearing extremely short skirts. A bit farther away, three middle-aged couples were on their way into the room with the Renaissance paintings, and beside the door to the French Impressionists he saw an elderly woman with a walker, an old man and a slender little woman. Nothing remarkable there either, except that they looked as if they were cold, since they were wearing gloves. It was troublesome when you got older; poor circulation could really make itself felt.

  What about the section for paintings from Holland and Flanders? This is where the valuable Rembrandt painting hung, but this room was empty except for an old lady with a stick. He couldn’t see any security guards on any of the images, which he thought was strange. The collections in the museum were worth many millions, probably more. Also, he didn’t find a single image of the bearded youth that the pensioners had spoken of. According to the security guards, two elderly ladies at the museum had seen the bearded man. But why hadn’t he been caught on a single camera?