The Little Old Lady Who Struck Lucky Again!

by Ingelman-Sundberg, Catharina

  ‘The gold robbery was a flop, but we have done something new, at least we can be pleased about that. Before, we got the loot but then lost it. Now, we failed to get all the loot and, on top of that, we can’t get rid of it.’

  She looked at Gunnar and then burst out in such an infectious laugh that the others couldn’t help but join in.

  ‘Perhaps it’s time to make a new attempt to trace the missing Las Vegas money. Those millions must have ended up somewhere,’ Brains added, trying to turn the conversation in a more positive direction.

  ‘You’re right. We’ve taken on too many different things. Perhaps I can make an attempt to hack into that legal firm,’ said Gunnar.

  ‘That would be great, because Beylings seems like a shady operation,’ said Brains. ‘I saw lots of luxury boats and motorbikes when I was in the dock storage area. That warehouse also contains art and vintage cars.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, I’d completely forgotten that.’ Martha looked up so quickly that she dropped her knitting onto the floor. ‘When we talked with that security guard, the student with the mobile phone, I jotted down some codes he had next to his computer. Brains, do you remember? It looked like a list.’ Martha delved into her big handbag. ‘What if we can trace Beylings’ clients that way? Why didn’t I think of that before?’ She rummaged around a few moments, and then fished up a rather crumpled piece of paper which she handed over to Gunnar. ‘Even if Beylings only rent the storage facility, they must have the names of the owners.’

  ‘Yes, of course they must.’ Gunnar got up and went and sat in front of the computer. ‘Give me an hour or two, and perhaps I can sort that out.’

  Anna-Greta went and sat next to Gunnar and waved to the others to leave. So they went down to the cosily furnished room in the cellar where they had a billiard table, a card table and comfortable armchairs. They played bridge while they waited, as that was something they thought was just as good for your brains as crossword puzzles and sudoku. They found it hard to concentrate and nobody could be bothered to accuse Rake of cheating, even though he dropped several cards onto the floor and, in some mysterious way, kept on winning. Gunnar and Anna-Greta took their time and two hours had passed when finally they came down to the cellar with their report. They had evidently worked really hard because this time Anna-Greta didn’t have any kiss marks on her neck.

  ‘Now just listen to this, it’s incredible! All those things belong to some city politicians,’ said Gunnar pointing at the printout he held in his hand. ‘We found an old list of luxury goods owned by Cornegie and Care Trust AB.’

  Brains gave a whistling sound.

  ‘On top of that there are lots of things that belong to somebody called Blomberg,’ Anna-Greta went on.

  ‘That’s not my Chief Inspector Blomberg, is it?’ said Martha suddenly becoming alert.

  ‘Yes, I think it is, because this Blomberg is a member of the board of the Police Pension Fund. Besides, he will soon be a pensioner himself and he owes the tax people lots of money. So he would have plenty of reasons to do this.’

  ‘I’m beginning to fathom this,’ said Christina. ‘Our transfers to the Police Pension Fund actually worked, but then something went wrong.’

  ‘Exactly. Because from the Police Pension Fund somebody could trace the money back to our secret account in Las Vegas. An IT-expert or an accomplished hacker has managed to redirect the transfer to himself.’

  ‘And laid his hands on the money,’ Anna-Greta added. ‘Shameful, don’t you think?’

  ‘Blomberg has bought paintings, cars and boats for hundreds of millions recently, and they have all been registered as belonging to Beylings,’ Gunnar went on. ‘That simply can’t be a coincidence.’

  ‘But what has that got to do with us?’ Rake wondered, finding it hard to keep up.

  ‘The things that Blomberg has bought, including paintings by Liljefors and Zorn, are worth about two hundred million. So Blomberg has got at our transfers via the pension fund and then redirected the money to his own account.’

  ‘What a villain!’ Rake rolled his eyes.

  ‘The swine!’ Martha exclaimed. ‘Gunnar, let me look at those computer printouts.’

  Gunnar handed them over and Martha studied the list carefully for a long time while the furrow between her eyebrows grew all the larger.

  ‘Now listen to this. We’re going to get at that Blomberg and all those crooked politicians. We’ll get every krona back. I’ll see to that.’

  ‘But Martha, my dear, how are you going to do that?’ Brains asked, with a worried look on his face. ‘We aren’t going to commit some more crimes, are we?’

  ‘I’ve had an idea. We shall delegate,’ said Martha.

  44

  ‘Good morning, nice weather today!’

  Brains had waited a long time before finally he caught sight of Tompa. Then, quick as a flash, he had put on his overcoat and hurried out. When the biker came walking down the slope, Brains pretended he just happened to be on his way to their letter box. He raised his cap.

  ‘Hello, mate!’ Tompa answered.

  ‘You know what? I found this in my desk drawer. I don’t think you will ever have seen such a fancy bike,’ said Brains, fumbling in his coat pocket and pulling out a wrinkled old photo. ‘A beauty, isn’t she? This is what I had when I was eighteen and picked up the girls with. The wife fell for it straight away.’

  ‘Yep, girls go mad when they see one of those.’ Tompa caressed the photo with his thumb a long while before handing it back.

  ‘But that bike simply doesn’t compare with those luxury goods we saw in the warehouse,’ said Brains. ‘Jesus, that was quite something! That legal firm, Beylings, must be stinking rich.’

  ‘Beylings? Do you know about them?’

  ‘Yeah, I mean they own the stuff we saw.’

  Tompa straightened his back and gave Brains a searching look. ‘You’re right, mate. They are smart. And their clients . . . Beylings make those shady types even richer,’ he said with an edge in his voice.

  ‘And all the luxury boats, cars and all the art that just stands there collecting dust,’ Brains sighed.

  ‘Oh yeah, those blokes in fancy suits look very posh on the outside,’ Tompa spat onto the gravel. ‘Some criminals just look prettier than others, but they’re all the same.’

  ‘The thing I was wondering about was that Beylings can’t own all that stuff themselves, or what do you reckon?’ Brains asked. ‘Perhaps it’s just in their name?’

  Tompa looked pensive.

  ‘Yeah, right. Even shady types need good lawyers. I bet you that Beylings are scared this could come out. I’ve got to go now, see you, mate!’ Tompa suddenly found himself in a great hurry and rushed off. Brains watched as he rushed on his way, then he checked the letter box and went back inside the house.

  ‘Well, how did it go?’ Martha asked when she met him in the hall.

  ‘According to plan, my dear! I have sown some seeds. He’ll soon be going places.’

  Tompa didn’t need many days to think this over. By the end of the week, he had Jörgen with him and, on Friday, just before lunch, they set off to the city. They roared past Stureplan and at the Riche restaurant they drove up onto the pavement and took off their helmets. Jörgen ran his fingers through his sticky hair and Tompa undid the buttons of his leather waistcoat. It was rather warm with leather and heavy boots at this time of year, but sometimes it was necessary. With a well-aimed kick, he sent an empty beer can flying over the Tarmac.

  ‘Ready?’

  Jörgen nodded and together they strode off in the direction of Beylings. They stopped at the posh entrance on Birger Jarlsgatan 4E where a red mat and beautiful oil paintings could be seen inside the lobby. They rang the bell and when a woman’s voice asked who it was, Tompa replied in a light voice: ‘Flower delivery for Beylings.’

  Once inside the lobby they adjusted their leather waistcoats and took the lift up. They found the lawyers’ office on the third floor and rang the
doorbell. Tompa paced back and forth on the landing impatiently. Even though he had done this many a time before, he always felt a bit uncomfortable. Now it was high time that Bandangels showed some results. As yet, the Mad Angels board hadn’t voted to admit the gang. So they needed to step up their game. They had to show what they could do.

  A secretary opened the door. On the way in, Tompa noticed that the hinges of the security door had had a bit of a knock. Excellent, then the alarm wouldn’t work properly.

  ‘We’re here to see Mr Birgerson.’

  ‘His room is down the corridor, but do you have an appointment?’

  ‘We always do.’

  Without waiting for an answer, Tompa and Jörgen went straight down the corridor and looked at the name plates. When they reached Birgerson’s door, they stopped, looked at each other and nodded. With a quick tug Tompa pulled the door open. Birgerson, sitting behind his desk, looked up in surprise.

  ‘Who are you? I don’t have any appointments now.’

  ‘We are here to check some things we’ve been wondering about.’

  Birgerson discreetly pressed the button which activated the CCTV camera. Tompa noticed and gave Jörgen a knowing nod. His mate looked quickly around, backed away and silently cut the cable to the camera.

  ‘You must explain yourselves.’ Birgerson tried to sound in charge.

  ‘Nice stuff you’ve got in the docks.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Tompa pulled out his mobile and showed the photos from inside the warehouse.

  ‘How in the name of?’

  ‘Motorcycles, boats, veteran cars, art and all that shit. All just been bought. It’s amazing that your office “owns” so much stuff.’

  There was no mistaking the irony in his voice. Birgerson reached out to the alarm button. Nothing happened. Tompa noticed and smirked. The damaged security door. The technicians must have disconnected the alarm so that they could repair it.

  ‘What are you going to do with all them luxury items? Present for the wife, perhaps?’ Tompa teased him.

  Birgerson didn’t answer.

  Ah, I see, you’re just middle-men, right. Do they pay you well, those tax-dodgers? You must get paid a lot by them, right? Stinking rich!’

  ‘I have no reason to reveal anything about my clients’ business,’ Birgerson retorted.

  ‘You are the one who owns this firm. Do the police know about all this? Your shady deals, I mean.’

  Birgerson suddenly looked worried, moved some papers on his desk and reached out for his mobile. Tompa saw the movement and with a quick swipe of his hand the phone was knocked to the floor.

  ‘Get out of here!’ Birgerson shouted.

  Tompa and Jörgen ran up to him and lifted him out of his chair. Birgerson’s forehead shone and he smelt of fear. They pushed him.

  ‘You know very well what this is about. You have a legal firm that deals with shady business. We want ten million within a week to keep our mouths shut. Otherwise we’ll take something as security, yeah, those things in the warehouse will do nicely for that.’ Tompa smiled, but it was only his mouth that moved. He pressed a hard elbow into the side of the lawyer. ‘Have you understood, or should we go to the police right now?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Economic crime. It would mean a lot of years behind bars!’ Jörgen smirked.

  ‘Our firm is not guilty of anything, you have simply imagined—’

  Tompa and Jörgen despatched the computer to the floor and kicked the mobile phone into the corner of the room.

  ‘Don’t try it. Ten million, we said. We’ll be in touch!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘If you don’t pay,’ Tompa lifted his fist and put it right under Birgerson’s nose, ‘then we’ll have no option but to collect the debt and then you’ll be in a right mess. Don’t involve the police or it’ll be the last thing you do. Your son goes to the Östra Secondary College and is a promising member of the Bromma Boys team. You don’t want anything to happen to him, do you? As long as you do as we say, then everything will be all right.’

  When Birgerson finally retrieved his telephone, the two bikers had already left the offices and disappeared down the street. From below he could hear the sound of two motorbikes starting up and driving off. He went up to the window and looked out. He had too much work, hadn’t really had time to deal with all that stuff in the docks, and now some idiot had let those bikers get in. This was looking really bad. The insurance premiums hadn’t been paid yet and he certainly didn’t have ten million. The firm was not doing well, even though he tried to keep up appearances, and, as if that wasn’t enough, this had happened. Birgerson could usually control himself, but he started to weep. He had no idea how he could solve this.

  Customs officer Carlsson stuck his USB into Blomberg’s computer and clicked on the icon. This time he had downloaded the CCTV footage from the Historical Museum and the Gold Room. He leaned forward and pointed.

  ‘Here, Blomberg, here’s the old lady I told you about. I recognize her from before when I worked at the airport. She’s on the images from outside the Handelsbanken branch too.’ Carlsson put his finger on a shadowy picture of Martha when she walked round and round the Wishing Well with something bulky over her shoulder, perhaps a large handbag. Now and then she leaned over the railings and studied the money in the water, sometimes she spoke to some other elderly people. ‘Surely that’s the same old woman you interviewed?

  ‘Oh my God, it’s her. No, please, not her again!’ Blomberg moaned and put his hand on his forehead.

  ‘Did you arrest her?’

  ‘No bloody way! I couldn’t get rid of her quick enough. She is totally cuckoo. She just happened to be there at the museum.’

  ‘She happens to be in an awful lot of places. Just look at the CCTV images. Just after the robbery she’s got something big and multicoloured under her arm. It looks like a helmet.’

  Blomberg pointed with a biro at the screen and laughed.

  ‘That bulky thing, oh yes! You know what that is? That’s her cloth bag. It’s got a big floral pattern and it looks really weird. And guess what she has inside it? Fish food!’

  ‘Fish food, are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure, and if you bring that old hag in one more time –’ Blomberg searched for something he could threaten Carlson with – ‘then I’ll move all your flower pots and change the furniture!’

  45

  The League of Pensioners could be exposed any day. The plants down in the garden were growing at great speed and the valuable gold was being covered by all the longer and thicker roots. The group of friends waited patiently. The days passed and soon they were in June, but neither the state, the city government nor anyone else offered to pay any ransom money. What if a rabbit started to dig tunnels out in the garden and happened to kick up a gold necklace or a gold nugget? A new neighbour right at the bottom of the hill had now acquired a horse. What if that got loose? No, it didn’t feel at all safe having gold in the garden, and it hadn’t given them any money either. In their big old house the pensioners were beginning to despair. They had written letters to venture capitalists and finance sharks but nobody, absolutely nobody, had shown the slightest interest in Sweden’s cultural treasures.

  ‘We should have written that we had a home-help service or a retirement home for sale, and then we might have got an answer,’ Martha sighed.

  Or a school,’ Brains added, and they all nodded in agreement and despaired a little longer.

  The police, too, were remarkably silent. No new bulletins, not a word. The detectives had got nowhere, or perhaps they were sitting somewhere ready to pounce. The worry spread among them, and Martha had her hands full trying to keep up their spirits. She scheduled a few extra gym sessions to keep the gang in trim and tried to console each one of them with the claim that nobody would dig in a herb garden full of manure without reason. When the others didn’t react, she raised her voice and said more forceful
ly:

  ‘Especially not in a herb garden that has an ants’ nest on it too!’

  At least Rake could agree that she might be right.

  Nothing happened in the Stockholm docks either, and Martha and Brains began to wonder whether their plan had perhaps failed. Now and then they also discussed whether they should make a big announcement with the news of their engagement just to break the stalemate. But then they wanted a party mood to surround their news, and that certainly wasn’t present now. What was the point of proclaiming such good news if nobody felt like celebrating? No, first they must deal with the awkward situation they had put themselves in. Some of Sweden’s finest ancient treasures were buried in their garden, and they couldn’t remain there forever.

  ‘There is something I didn’t know about our new direction in life,’ Martha said a little later in the evening when she and Brains sat talking in her room. Even though they hadn’t told anybody about their engagement, they often sneaked into each other’s room. It was nice to have a visit and a little more exciting like this when you didn’t take each other for granted. Besides, Martha thought that it was a good thing Brains had his own room because he was extremely messy.

  ‘New direction in life?’ Brains said, kicking off his slippers. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Yes, we have changed from acting quickly to waiting. For that you need patience.’ Martha put on her nightcap and reached out for her ear plugs. Despite using a mouth-guard, Brains snored something terrible.

  ‘Perseverance and patience, that’s what it’s about. Patience, yes, such good training for you, my friend.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Hmm, well, that you look cute in your nightcap.’

  ‘You are sweet, Brains,’ said Martha, and she gave him a little hug.

  At dawn, Brains was suddenly woken by mysterious sounds from down by the bay. Not motorbikes, no, it sounded like a large Evinrude outboard and a hot bulb engine. He shook Martha.

  ‘Martha, I can hear boats coming into our bay.’

  Martha and Brains hastily put on their dressing gowns and looked out. From the balcony they could see a Pettersson boat and two luxury boats berthing at the jetty. Dark-clothed Bandangels members made fast and jumped ashore. The motorboats had only just arrived when new, unusual sounds could be heard.