The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules

by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

  And believe it or not, so it was.

  Seventy-Two

  The five of them were interrupted just as they were discussing the exact time for the big robbery. Without warning, Nurse Barbara stepped into Martha’s room and said that everybody should immediately go to the lounge. When they asked why, she was already halfway out the door.

  ‘The damn woman.’ Rake made a face. ‘She could at least have said what it was about.’

  They had barely arrived in the lounge and noticed the flowers on the table before Barbara clapped her hands, climbed up onto a chair and said:

  ‘Now we are going to celebrate, my friends.’ She was a bit unsteady on her heels.

  ‘My friends? That’s going a bit far,’ Rake muttered.

  ‘Thanks to a donation from Dolores, we are going to have a big party here tomorrow. This is the fifth anniversary of Diamond House, and right in time for the jubilee we have some other news too.’ Nurse Barbara’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘After long negotiations, Director Mattson has bought two retirement homes which will be part of a new organization. Yes, Director Mattson will describe this to you at a meeting later today, but I can already tell you that the new retirement homes will be amalgamated with Diamond House. Everything will be organized in a new company and Director Mattson and I will be on the board. This is indeed something to celebrate …’

  ‘For you perhaps,’ said Martha.

  ‘Nurse Barbara has said that we are going to have a big party,’ Dolores chipped in, and everybody turned towards her. She bent down over her shopping trolley and dug around among the blankets while she hummed to herself. Then she pulled out some five-hundred-kronor notes and held them up for all to see. ‘This is for the party, and there is more here if it should be needed.’

  ‘Oh no,’ groaned Christina and Anna-Greta simultaneously Brains went pale, Rake hiccupped and Martha felt her tummy cramp. If the police found out that five-hundred-kronor banknotes were circulating at the retirement home, they would search the place again. It wouldn’t take them many minutes to discover that the numbers were the same as those of the notes on the ferry that had ‘blown away’, and before long the hiding place under Martha’s bed would be revealed.

  ‘Oh dearie me, things are getting hot,’ said Martha.

  ‘They are indeed. We must act NOW,’ Brains whispered.

  ‘I’ll immediately book tickets and the hotel,’ said Anna-Greta.

  Martha got up, and while the murmur got louder inside the lounge she went up to the window to think. They must be off as soon as possible, but they hadn’t finished their preparations for the next coup. A robbery must be planned down to the tiniest detail. She looked out. A car slowed down and stopped a little further down the hill. A dark blue Volvo. She looked up and down the street, but the grey Mercedes she had seen earlier had disappeared.

  The party at the retirement home started at four in the afternoon. Nurse Barbara had thought that was the best since, as usual, she considered that everybody should be in bed by eight.

  ‘She can never relax, can she?’ said Martha. ‘Children are allowed to stay up longer when there’s a party.’

  ‘Some people have to have strict rules to feel good,’ said Brains.

  ‘But at her own party …’ Martha sighed.

  When they were dressed for the party and Brains had come to fetch her, Martha glanced out of the window again. There was the grey Mercedes.

  ‘Brains, did you see?’

  ‘Wait, I forgot my glasses,’ he said, but when he returned the car had driven off. Instead, the dark blue Volvo from the day before had parked down the hill.

  ‘First there was a grey Mercedes here, and now there’s a dark blue Volvo. Why?’ Martha wondered.

  ‘Everybody has a Volvo like that.’

  ‘But that Volvo has a trailer hitch and double rear mirrors.’

  ‘The police would hardly keep watch on a retirement home, would they? It must be somebody else,’ said Brains. ‘What if—’

  The door opened, and in came Rake.

  ‘What are you doing? Everyone’s waiting.’

  ‘We’re coming,’ said Brains, but as soon as Rake had left the room he turned to Martha again. ‘You know what, I’m beginning to feel afraid. If that was Juro who failed with the van robbery, then he must quickly get hold of money some other way. I think he wants to pump me for everything I know about locks and alarms. They are tough guys, that lot. What if he has worked out that I’m living here and he is the person sitting in the grey car?’

  Martha slipped her hand into his.

  ‘But the Mercedes isn’t there any longer. You can relax. Now we must hurry because Anna-Greta has promised that we shall sing.’

  She led him out into the lounge, where they joined the others in the choir against the short wall. Martha pulled out her tuning fork, sounded a tone and then they all started singing old Swedish favourites before letting Rake finish off with ‘Towards the Sea’. When Anna-Greta indicated that she would like to sing ‘Childhood Faith’ a capella, the others said it was time to get seated.

  Then a fanfare was heard and the lights were dimmed.

  ‘Take a seat, everybody,’ Nurse Barbara urged, and soon after that two waiters came in with a shellfish and salmon paté on a bed of dry ice. It lay in a large porcelain platter which was decorated with lettuce leaves and dill. When the ceiling lights suddenly changed to blue, it all looked very magical.

  ‘Goodness, that is quite something,’ said Martha. ‘Dolores seems to have been very generous.’

  ‘With our money,’ Martha added.

  ‘See that carbon dioxide snow? Not something you want to dip your fingers into. That is really cold and can freeze most things,’ said Brains.

  After a while the lights were turned on again and Barbara, wearing an evening gown with a plunging neckline, started to hand out streamers and party hats. Evidently she isn’t so stingy after all, Martha thought. Perhaps she has learned her lesson. Then champagne was served, and when everyone had been given a glass, Director Mattson got up and proposed a toast.

  ‘To the future!’ he said, looking down into Barbara’s cleavage.

  The main course consisted of roast turkey with fancy potatoes and haricots verts, and everybody rubbed their eyes, wondering if this was really happening.

  ‘This is almost like a Nobel Prize banquet,’ said Christina.

  ‘All that is lacking is the prize money,’ Anna-Greta said with a neigh.

  The murmuring got louder and the elderly residents were enjoying themselves, though many of them wondered whether they were dreaming. But when Dolores got up and with clasped hands thanked her son for the money, everybody knew they were at the retirement home as usual. After her little speech, the lights were dimmed once more, a wall of smoke spread out and the two waiters appeared again. Accompanied by music and pulsating disco lights, they served raspberry sorbet and chocolate sauce in small dishes decorated with lemon balm. Except for the fact that the disco lights triggered two epileptic fits, everything went off well. When it was getting near eight o’clock, Nurse Barbara clapped her hands.

  ‘My dear friends, it is getting late. It will soon be time to withdraw.’

  ‘We’re not going to do that at all,’ the oldies called out in one voice, but before she could say anything more Director Mattson got up.

  ‘This is a very special evening,’ he started off. ‘First and foremost, we would like to thank Dolores for treating us to this party, but I also have an announcement.’

  ‘Probably more staff cuts,’ Martha mumbled.

  ‘Nurse Barbara told you earlier today that we have amalgamated with two other retirement homes, but that is not the only thing we are celebrating. Nurse Barbara and I have got engaged.’

  ‘Oh, it’s like that, now I see. This way you don’t have to pay for your own party, you misers,’ Martha muttered to herself.

  The door opened and in came the two waiters with a strange machine which blew out bubbles.
While the transparent, glittering bubbles floated around in the disco light, Martha and Brains sneaked a look at Dolores’s shopping trolley. This party must have cost a packet, and it was only a matter of time before Dolores reached deeper into the trolley and discovered that the rest was just newspaper. Martha leaned close to Brains.

  ‘We ought to act tomorrow, or at the very latest at the end of the week.’

  ‘I know. It might be possible, even though we haven’t had time to prepare properly. We have Anders, after all …’

  They retired to her room and while the night settled they sat with pen and paper and drew up plans.

  ‘I don’t think anybody has ever seen a robbery like this before,’ Brains finally said with a voice that vibrated with pride.

  ‘Nor me,’ Martha said and smiled.

  Seventy-Three

  Nurse Barbara thoughtlessly walked straight into Martha’s room without knocking.

  ‘Never do that again,’ Martha hissed and got up.

  ‘Goodness me, what on earth are you doing?’ Barbara gave a start and looked all around her. The whole retirement home was chaotic nowadays, but the rooms of the choir gang were particularly disordered. Inside the room, the entire choir gang sat and painted. On the sideboard and the coffee table there were oil paints, paintings, frames and a roll of plastic wrap; the floor was covered with empty tubes of paint with the tops unscrewed. An easel had fallen across the sofa, and Brains was standing next to it mixing paint in a bucket. Christina was busy putting thick layers of paint on an enormous canvas, and Anna-Greta was adding the finishing touches to a little rectangular canvas. It seemed as if she had tried to depict some silver coins in light grey colours, but it looked more like biscuits. While she painted, she hummed an old popular song to herself.

  Nurse Barbara took a deep breath and exclaimed, ‘Whatever are you up to?’

  ‘Developing as artists,’ Martha answered and wiped her face—already covered with splashes of paint—with the back of her hand.

  ‘Perhaps you could do some watercolours instead?’ said Nurse Barbara in an attempt to be positive. Director Mattson had advised her not to forbid this and that, but rather to cajole and use friendly words.

  ‘Watercolour? I’ve done that for such a long time,’ said Christina nonchalantly. ‘You see, watercolour has its limitations. Now we are experimenting with oil paint.’

  Yes, Barbara could see that. Large abstract paintings were leaning against the walls and chairs, and if it hadn’t been for all the plastic wrap, the floor would have been destroyed long ago. She had a closer look. The paintings were joyful and rich in colour, but for the life of her she couldn’t make out what they depicted.

  ‘Yes, indeed, art …’ was all she could say.

  ‘We’re having sooo much fun, you know,’ Martha exclaimed. ‘We’re hoping to have an exhibit. Perhaps we could exhibit here at Diamond House too? We’ve already formed an art club: Old People Are Capable—Artists Too.’

  ‘Oh, I see. I’m sure it will turn out well. For now we must clean the room up. It really can’t look like this.’

  Almost immediately, she regretted the sentence It really can’t look like this, but that was exactly what she thought. With a deep sigh, she fled into her office. After the party she had thought it would be easier to get everyone on her side, but the opposite had happened. Not only were the oldies doing whatever they wanted, but they were also pushing for more parties—and now the choir gang wanted to exhibit their paintings at Diamond House. She put her hand on her brow. She would have to console herself with the knowledge that finally she had manoeuvred Ingmar where she wanted him. They were going to get married, and even though he had postponed the wedding, they would very soon be looking after three retirement homes together. He would think he was in charge of it all, but no. Her plans were considerably more ambitious than that. The wedding was only the first stop on the way to her dreams.

  Martha put her paintbrush down on her lap and threw a glance at the closed door.

  ‘Nurse Barbara didn’t dare stay in here. One should feel sorry for her for not being able to enjoy life. And if she had had the slightest inkling of what we were doing, she would have had a heart attack.’

  ‘Yeah, next stop Las Vegas,’ said Rake.

  ‘No, the West Indies,’ Anna-Greta interposed. ‘They don’t have any extradition agreements. You can be sent straight home from the US. It will have to be Barbados, but that only takes ten hours, and I’ve found the most luxurious hotel imaginable there.’

  ‘That is all well and good, but first we are going to Täby, aren’t we?’ said Martha. And then they all became quiet, because they knew what was waiting. Before they committed their crime, there was one more thing they must check. How the ATM money dispensers in Stockholm actually worked.

  The Green Menace yet again made rocking progress on the roads, and with the radio at full volume they drove round to the various ATMs in the northern and western suburbs of Stockholm. The van stopped in Sundbyberg, Råsunda, Rinkeby and Djursholm, and at each stop they clambered out with their walkers, took some money out and then went on their way again. Sometimes Rake and Brains left the vehicle, sometimes Christina and Anna-Greta, but they all did their bit with the same concentrated thoroughness. In fact, they were so concentrated on their task that they didn’t notice the dark blue Volvo that was shadowing them. Not even Martha, who was making detailed notes, noticed anything. No, they only had eyes for ATMs and alternate escape routes.

  When they had completed their final reconnaissance trip to Täby, they filled the tank at the gas station and returned to Diamond House. After a long afternoon nap, they packed for the journey, went through all the details with Anders, and toasted the success of their project with cloudberry liqueur. This time it was for real. This was to be their first advanced crime, albeit in a friendly manner, but nevertheless.

  Martha slept like a log that night and dreamed of a successful coup and how she shared out the money with all. Indeed, she even managed a short dream about a successful fraud, and at seven o’clock she woke up bright and alert. Exciting dreams always put her in a good mood.

  A good day for a robbery, Martha thought the following afternoon when they approached Täby centre. It was not raining, but the sky was grey and gloomy as it tended to be in that part of Sweden early in December. They were lucky with the weather. The temperature had not sunk below freezing yet, and none of them needed to worry about icy roads and pavements. It was hard enough anyway to walk nice and calmly when you were intending to steal fifteen to twenty million.

  ‘Look, it’s turning in there.’ Martha said. She put on her left turn signal, changed to a lower gear and followed the Loomis security van at a distance. Since they needed two drivers this time, Martha had got her chance to drive too. Anders was in charge of a rental car with a trailer while she sat behind the wheel of the Green Menace. It wasn’t every day that pensioners shadow a security van, she thought.

  ‘The ATM in Täby centre will be first. Just as we thought,’ said Brains when the Loomis van slowed down and turned off to the right towards the parking lot.

  ‘I hope it looks the same here as it did yesterday so that Anders can drive in with the trailer. Everything must work perfectly,’ said Martha.

  ‘Don’t you worry. One trailer or one van more or less—nobody will care about that. People here are fully occupied with their own doings.’

  ‘But what about the freezers?’

  ‘We’re going to a party or a recycling station. If somebody stops us, we say what seems most likely. Although the best thing is not to say anything at all.’

  Martha slowly followed after the security van. People on their way home from work hurried across the asphalt, looking straight ahead of them and nowhere else. What a wretched life, such stress, she thought, but here too were row upon row of shops on several storeys. That could make anybody dizzy. No little stores with a door that went ding-dong or a salesperson who recognized you. No, not here. Young
people today would think she was lying if she told them that in the old days the salespeople knew you and knew everything about your parents.

  ‘Martha, you are keeping an eye on the Loomis van?’ Rake asked, giving her a gentle prod.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said and blushed. He was right. She ought to be concentrating more. Now the security van was on its way to the ATM and the driver didn’t seem to care about the people all around. Anyhow, most of them had finished shopping and were hurrying home in the cold. It was Friday, after all. On Friday evenings people longed to get home to their families and celebrate the end of the work week. Enjoy yourselves, Martha thought, but we are going for the jackpot! What they were doing was on a grand scale, much bigger than anything they had attempted before. She hummed to herself and felt full of confidence when suddenly she spotted the car in the rear-view mirror. A dark blue Volvo. That same moment, she realized it wasn’t a coincidence. She looked quickly behind her, asked Brains to hold the steering wheel, and then with her right hand managed to ease a carton of galvanized nails out of her purse belt. If they were police, then she wasn’t just going to give up. She was prepared.

  Inspector Lönnberg changed to a lower gear. He gave Strömbeck a tired look and shook his head.

  ‘What the hell are they playing at? They seem to be busy with ATMs today too.’ He nodded towards the van. ‘Evidently it wasn’t enough with ten ATMs yesterday. Now they’re going to Täby again. Weren’t they there yesterday? I just don’t get this!’

  ‘And they withdraw money everywhere. Each time they totter up with their walkers, although they don’t need them. Shall we force them to pull over?’ Strömbeck asked, popping a portion of tobacco under his gum.

  ‘Yes. You know what? It’s bloody well time we did that. It feels as if they’re making fools of us. I reckon we should ignore Petterson’s instructions. Let’s stop them!’ said Lönnberg and immediately felt much brighter.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Strömbeck. ‘We’ll set up a police control at the entrance to the parking area so that they won’t be able to get near the ATM.’