Brains put on a jacket and went outside to the letter box to fetch the post. Then he discovered that the name on the letter box was now almost unreadable – somebody had scraped it so that it was all buckled and the name was hard to decipher. That was bad luck! Oh well, he could repair it and then put a new name plate on the box too. Brains went in to fetch his toolbox and returned with it in the basket of his Zimmer frame. He quickly glanced up the hill to where the Bandangels had their clubhouse and wondered if one of them had deliberately crashed into the letter box. Deep inside, he was actually slightly afraid. Of course, he loved talking about motorcycles with the bikers, the way men do, but this biker gang did rather give him the shivers. They had more or less threatened Martha when she refused to lease the land to them. What would they do next? You had to be very careful with these sorts of people. It felt as though one of them could knock him down with a little finger. Of course, he most probably wouldn’t have been able to defend himself when he was young either. They would have floored him before he had even got up his fists. No, it would be best to keep on good terms with them. Be nice, repair the letter box as best he could, and then forget about it. You had to make the best of life and not get bogged down in details.
Brains had had a good life and led a comfortable existence, even though Martha perhaps arranged these robberies rather too often. The old girl ought to learn to take things a bit easier. At her age, she was far too energetic for her own good. It would be lovely when finally they got all their millions where they belonged so that they could settle down. Because even though he would rather have lain on the sofa or been in his workshop, he must take part in everything she thought up. He was worried about her, and he didn’t want her to get into trouble. Of course, they did have an extremely good time together, and yes, he had become so fond of Martha that it was hard to imagine life without her. Without his realizing how it happened, Martha had become more than just a friend. Indeed, it actually felt as if he had fallen a bit in love with her. A crush on a criminal! He smiled at the thought, and started to laugh to himself. Who was he to talk!
Just as Brains was going to start repairing the letter box, he heard the familiar sound of a Harley-Davidson. He quickly got out his mobile phone and took a photo. Tompa saw him, slowed down and drove right up to him.
‘Did you take a photo? I don’t like people taking photos, got it?’
‘I wasn’t taking a photo of you, but of the bike.’
‘Really?!’
‘I see you’ve got a Touring model. That’s been my dream bike all my life!’
‘Yeah, it’s a real King of the Road.’
‘That’s quite something, almost like a Street Rider,’ said Brains enthusiastically. ‘But I saw some even fancier ones in the docks, I can tell you.’
‘In the docks?’
‘They were mind-blowing. You should have seen ’em, and they were absolutely new too. There was even a shining Electra Glide Ultra that looked as though it had come straight from the factory.’
‘You can’t fool me. An Electra Glide Ultra in the Stockholm docks? No way.’
‘Oh yes it was. An air-cooled twin-cam. Do you want to see it?’ Brains browsed through the photos on Martha’s mobile phone and opened the image. He held the telephone up for Tompa to look. ‘A beauty, isn’t she?’
‘That she is.’
‘There were lots of other good models there too. Have a look!’
Brains clicked image after image, and as the luxury cars and boats appeared on the screen, Tompa leaned closer to get a better look.
‘Where in the docks in Stockholm, did you say?’
‘Behind the big gates in the old ship-building area. There’s simply loads of stuff there.’
Tompa fidgeted with his helmet and asked Brains to show him the photos again. He looked all the more interested, until finally he opened the bag on the side of his bike and pulled out another helmet.
‘What about a trip on the bike? Shall we cruise down to the docks?’
A ride on a Touring bike? Brains pondered this a few moments. He wondered if he was up to it. But the last time they were in the gym, Martha had said that he had become really quite agile. Yes, there was no harm in trying; he wouldn’t get another chance like this.
‘Right let’s get on the bike!’ said Brains, seizing the opportunity. He took the helmet from Tompa, who put the Zimmer frame by the ditch and helped him up onto the pillion.
‘You’ll be able to get us inside that warehouse so that I can get a look at those fancy things you showed?’ Tompa asked. Brains nodded, snorted a little to himself and put on the helmet.
‘I can tell you, locks aren’t and never have been a problem for me,’ he said and smiled one of his most youthful smiles.
Martha hadn’t seen Brains all morning and was growing rather worried. He hadn’t said anything but had just disappeared. It was unlike Brains, as he always made a point of saying where he was going to be. None of the others knew where he had gone, and Rake simply said that Tompa had taken him for a ride on the motorbike. Brains would have warned her if he intended to talk with the Bandangels. Martha now felt so worried that she couldn’t concentrate on anything at all. What had happened? Surely Tompa wouldn’t harm him, would he? What if the motorbike crashed? Brains could be badly injured!
The very thought horrified her, and she walked back and forth inside the house going from room to room for a long time before she decided to do some baking. She ought to take better care of him, give him some nice things to eat and make sure they did lots of enjoyable things together. Martha should spend more time with him, quite simply, and not just plan crimes. Oh, do let him come back safe and sound! Then they could go for a walk, pick some berries and flowers and so on. Or, at any rate, pick up all the twigs and pine cones that had fallen onto the lawn.
Martha went into the kitchen and thought about what she should do to bake a tasty cake. She asked Christina for advice and she turned the whole kitchen upside down in her eagerness to make something delicious. After two attempts, she had finally managed to make a cheesecake with a raspberry topping, which was Brains’s favourite. It didn’t look exactly like it should, but the mixture had been very tasty. She took the cake up to her room and laid the table for coffee. Then she got out her knitting and waited. Martha waited and waited until long into the afternoon and when finally, after several hours, she heard his steps on the stairs, she was so relieved that she almost started to cry. Quickly she lit the two aromatic candles and cast a glance at the coffee table where the cheesecake had the place of honour surrounded by a coffee pot, a dish of wafers and a bottle of egg liqueur. Yes, at the last moment, she had switched the cloudberry liqueur for a bottle of egg liqueur. Egg had a good effect on men, she had read in some advice column or other.
When Brains finally did come into the room, his hair stood on end, his clothes were all wrinkled and his expression was one of pure bliss.
‘What a motorbike, Martha. We ought to buy one,’ he said, but turned quiet when he saw the candles. ‘Goodness, is there a power cut?’
‘Not exactly.’ Martha blushed.
‘Well, that’s lucky, because I really am too tired to get my tools out. You can’t imagine what I’ve been doing today.’
‘Well, I’ve got some idea. Would a Harley-Davidson have anything to do with it?’
Amazing, you can always read my thoughts!’ Brains looked delighted, sat down and pulled Martha towards him. ‘Yes, I saw lots of Harley-Davidsons down in the warehouse. And, you know what, a lot of luxury cars and boats, just like last time. I took pictures of the whole lot, and so did Tompa.’ He felt in his pocket for the mobile. ‘I’ll show you!’
Martha took his hand in hers.
‘Shall we have a cup of coffee first?’ she said, and gave him a very serious look. ‘You might not believe it, but although you’ve only been gone a few hours, I missed you really dreadfully.’
‘You don’t say? By the way, what sort of cake is that?’
‘Have you made it?’ Brains came to life. ‘A real cheesecake, my favourite cake!’ He stroked her hair. ‘You know what, Martha? Even though I’ve seen lots of beautiful vintage cars and motorbikes today, I was mainly thinking of you. At one point when we were looking around in the warehouse Tompa got such a hard look in his eyes that I, well, I was terrified and then I thought that, well, I sort of thought that . . .’ Brains’s voice faded away.
‘What did you think?’
‘That, well, if I didn’t get to see you again . . .’
Brains hummed and cleared his throat a long while because he wanted to, sort of, say something more. In the end he jumped.
‘To think that I’ve met somebody like you, Martha! Yes, you’ve sort of installed yourself in my brain and heart and you live your own wild life there.’
Then Martha smiled and leaned her head against his chest.
So it turned out that that particular day ended up as one of the most fantastic that Brains had ever experienced. A trip on a Harley-Davidson in the morning, and then a long, delightful time with Martha in the afternoon. Not until the candles had burnt out and the coffee was ice cold did they start on the cheesecake, which by then had received a direct hit from a foot or an elbow. But what did it matter on a day like this, because, even though they weren’t young any longer, they had made an important decision: they had got engaged.
43
The wall clock ticked away and the pensioners sat in the library and waited for the evening news programme on TV They had heard on the radio that the Handelsbanken robbery was as good as solved and that the gold coup at the Historical Museum soon would be too. The police would hold a press conference and this would be broadcast live in the news report. Martha and Brains had intended celebrating their engagement and the retrieval of the diamonds, but now they were at a loss. They realized that things were serious because the Historical Museum had been cordoned off and scene-of-the-crime technicians were busy collecting evidence. Besides, the police had said that the gold robbery would result in long prison sentences. The news on the radio had really given them a scare. Nobody did anything and nobody said anything. They all waited.
Martha remembered the Sollentuna remand centre after their heist at the National Museum the previous year. The little cell with the furniture attached to the wall and a toilet and washbasin of metal. She didn’t want to find herself there again. Nor did she want to end up in Hinseberg, the women’s prison. Admittedly, it was in a nice setting in the countryside and you could be outside, make your own food and do gymnastics, but some of the inmates, oh dear me, no! A shudder went through her body as Martha remembered how difficult that Liza had been, the girl who had threatened her. No, she didn’t want to go back there, and nor did any of the others.
Never before had the atmosphere been so pressing in the old house. We’ve just charged along like fools, Martha thought and realized that they had seen their crimes as a contribution to society; they had wanted to do what was best, and hadn’t thought so much about the consequences. What they had done were criminal actions and now the police seemed to be on the tail of the thieves. Before they knew it, they might be forced to flee abroad again. That was, of course, a good reason to go off travelling in foreign countries, but they couldn’t just keep on packing and repacking, could they?
Martha had taken her knitting with her, but even though she was doing her best to finish a jolly, colourful hat for Brains, she kept on dropping stitches and even found herself knitting the wrong pattern. She just couldn’t stop thinking that the police might be on their tail. The boys ought not to have used ether, she thought, that might have left some traces. Perhaps that might lead to a few extra years behind bars. But that guard had evidently been something of a know-all and then it could be hard to keep your patience. There ought to be a warning triangle, like they had in cars, for know-alls, she thought. Then you could avoid them. The familiar jingle of the news programme started up and now they all looked at the TV screen.
The gold robbery was not the main item, but first came a report about the dreadful financial situation of some European countries. For the time being the problem had been solved by new loans without security, and everyone had gained a little breathing space. Martha didn’t think much of that sort of policy; it was like playing Old Maid. No, she thought there should be proper gold reserves and security for all loans.
‘At least we have real gold,’ Martha said proudly and nodded towards the garden. Brains agreed with her.
‘But just because we’ve got real gold out there doesn’t mean we should become arrogant. We have only borrowed that gold,’ Anna-Greta corrected them.
‘But I really do wonder what is going to happen with the world’s finances,’ Martha sighed. ‘Somebody will be stuck with the Old Maid card in the end.’
‘Martha, can’t you let others deal with the world’s economy?’ said Rake with a deep sigh. Martha didn’t have time to reply because, at that moment, the news about the Historical Museum started. A bearded reporter with a microphone in his hand stood next to a uniformed Blomberg in front of the museum steps.
‘Are there still no leads in the hunt for the gold thieves?’ the bearded man asked.
‘Interpol has been brought in. We have our contacts. Sooner or later the gold will be found.’
‘Could you comment upon the ransom demand? Will the Government pay the ransom?’
‘The Government will not pay the ransom, as a matter of principle.’
‘But it is said at the museum here that the thieves want the ransom to go to the elderly and poor and others in need of support.’
‘I don’t wish to comment on that. Our job is to find the criminals.’
‘The Timboholm treasure and the rest of the gold in the display cases are an irreplaceable part of our cultural heritage. Is the state really not going to save those treasures?’
‘That is not something upon which I can comment. Excuse me.’
The interview ended abruptly and the League of Pensioners watched in silence as the camera swept around the Gold Room and zoomed in on the empty display cases. Martha turned the TV off with the remote.
‘Well, there’s nothing to worry about just now, at any rate,’ Martha said. ‘But it would be a scandal if they didn’t pay.’
‘Of course they must pay,’ Brains agreed. ‘I can’t imagine them not doing so.’
‘Regardless, we’ve done a neat job; you can’t see any damage to the display cases,’ said Christina, who particularly cared about matters of aesthetics.
‘Is that so? Well, you came a long way with the right drill and a compass saw,’ Brains pointed out.
‘The police said that they were on the way to solving the crime, but they don’t seem to have any leads at all. I think they’ve run up against a brick wall,’ said Anna-Greta, relieved.
‘But it’s surprising they haven’t got on to us,’ Brains mused out loud.
‘Yes, but Christina destroyed our tracks with the fire extinguisher,’ Martha reminded them.
‘Did you, Christina?’ Rake came to life and looked at her with admiration. ‘Well, that was brilliant, my dear. To think that you had the presence of mind to do that.’
‘You learn a lot from reading books,’ Christina answered and nonchalantly put on some more lipstick to improve her lips. ‘But that’s books. I don’t know whether computer games can teach you as much.’
Rake fell silent.
‘But what should we do? The state has not paid out anything, there’s been no money to the retirement homes or to culture,’ Martha sighed.
‘And none to our secret account either,’ Anna-Greta added. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, but Gunnar showed me how to do it, so, well, I did actually set up a little account for ourselves so that we can buy presents when we go to visit retirement homes. The old people were so pleased last time. Besides
, we have to pay a lot of rent for the storage space in the docks. That was a really bad deal; we’re paying without having a single thing stored there.’
‘OK, OK, we need money and luck has not been on our side. It can’t all be perfect,’ said Martha, who was feeling more confused than she ought to be. She tried to gather her wits and think about police work, the non-payment of the ransom and money that had gone astray, but she didn’t really have the energy. She wanted to give Brains a kiss instead. ‘You know what, when I think about it, the idea of asking the state for money was doomed from the start.’ Martha didn’t stop there. ‘It takes such a long time for them to decide anything, so, before that happens, we’ll all be dead. Why not send letters to some venture capitalists instead?’
‘Yes, they usually work fast,’ said Rake nodding. ‘But they should get something for helping us.’
‘A pity we didn’t get more gold from the Gold Room. If that hardener hadn’t been too old and caused the pictorial stones to break up, then perhaps we could have taken a bit more so that we could give some away,’ Brains said.
‘Yes, the hardener was too old, but it’s always difficult to see the expiry date on the packets,’ Martha consoled him.
‘We can’t give the gold away,’ Anna-Greta cut in. ‘That’s state property. It is quite enough with all the other stuff that they have sold off.’
‘Can’t we create a shell company that those finance sharks can buy?’ asked Gunnar as he joined in the discussion. ‘Some future dummy company of the sort they think they can earn money with?’
‘Yes, perfect!’ they called out in unison, but then when they realized that they had no idea how you created a dummy company, their enthusiasm turned into a quiet murmur. They were all feeling a little bit down because, despite their detailed planning of the coup, the gold robbery hadn’t given them any money at all. Suddenly Anna-Greta started giggling.
The Little Old Lady Who Struck Lucky Again! Page 26