Christina dropped back, discreetly distancing herself from the others and while Martha and her friends kept the crew occupied she started to search. She quietly stayed on in the map room and started to go through the wide, solid pedestals of stacked drawers. Slowly she pulled out drawer after drawer, opened envelopes, browsed through sketches, maps and bundles of papers without finding anything. She bit one thumbnail, leaving a mark, and that got her attention. No, goodness, she was getting silly, she can’t be nervous now. She must pull herself together! Further inside the room she caught sight of a desk and hurried across to it. Now she was more eager and resolutely pulled out every drawer as quietly and carefully as she could. Now and then she threw an anxious glance toward the others.
“So we can depart tomorrow?” she heard Rake ask.
“Of course, I will call my crew and the boat is all yours.”
“Yes, you have no idea how right you are,” Christina mumbled to herself while sweat formed large stains of dampness under her arms. Where in heaven’s name did the captain keep his papers? Not in his cabin, surely? Could they be in a private safe? She threw a glance around the room to see if she had missed anything, a security box, a cupboard or a shelf. She saw some map books and crime novels, otherwise the book shelves were empty. Then she heard steps and realized that she must leave the room. She carefully crept out onto the bridge again and smiled in a forced manner when she walked right into the arms of the captain.
“The toilet, please?” she stuttered.
The tanned man beamed with a wide smile and indicated with his hand down toward the port side. Just as she walked past him she discovered a brown envelope with an empty coffee cup and some receipts on top of it. The envelope lay next to the safe in the map room and it looked as if somebody had put it down, realized that he didn’t have the key with him and then gone off to fetch it. She stopped and noted that the captain had returned to the others. She quickly picked up the envelope and swept it into her handbag. Her heart was pounding inside her dress and a drop of sweat appeared on her upper lip.
While Martha and the gang were still out on deck Christina remained inside, opened the envelope and peeped at the papers down inside her bag. Some were filled with text she couldn’t read, and there were receipts and notes torn out from a notebook, but there were also two sheets that were thicker than the others. And they had stamps on them too. Could they be . . . yep, this was it! Here they were, the papers for the boat and the certificate of ownership for Aurora 4. How could the captain be so careless as to leave such important documents lying around? She hurried to catch up with the others and gave the pre-agreed thumbs-up to Martha who in turn nudged Rake, after which he nodded, picked up his cell and dialed Nils. Now! Now there was no going back.
It took a few minutes but then Martha saw how Nils came out from the shadows and walked toward the boat. When they had established eye contact, he took up position down on the pier, looked around him and lit a cigarette. That was agreed signal number two. Martha breathed deeply again, fidgeted with her old-fashioned blouse with its lace trimmings, pulled down her hat with the veil and turned toward the captain.
“What a wonderful boat. We want to charter it, of course. But what about a little outing with it first? Yes, just a short trip. And of course we’ll pay the charter fee, we’ll pay that in advance.” Martha dug down into her large, flowery handbag and fished out her iPad.
“We can deal with that later.” The captain smiled.
“Oh no. What if you charter it out to somebody else? No, give me a charter agreement and you’ll get the money. The account number please?”
The captain scratched his chin but there was not much he could do when Martha got going with her persuasive tactics. He turned on his heels and returned to the bridge. That very same moment, Christina came up with the papers. Martha threw a quick glance at them and saw that it was the certificate of ownership with Bielke’s name on it. She folded the papers and put them in with her money and keys in her waterproof “All-weather wallet” inside her blouse. For a brief, scary second she was afraid that the captain would discover that the certificate was missing, but why would he look for it now? The polite gentleman dressed in white was only away a short time, but when he came back he had a folder under his arm.
“If you only want to charter the boat for one week, then I am authorized to arrange that,” he said and put a charter contract down on the table. Martha signed—the illegible handwriting that she had become so clever at using in situations like this—after which she pushed the papers over to the captain. When he too had signed, she picked up her iPad and asked for details of the bank and account number. He wrote it all down on a piece of paper and handed that over to her. Martha nodded to Anna-Greta, who sat down next to them and helped to find the bank on the Internet. She clicked her way to Transfers and filled in the number.
“Right, then,” said Anna-Greta but she stopped and looked up before she had pressed the enter key: “But what about going on our little trip first. I love boats!”
“Oh yes, that little test outing, captain, we must do that now,” said Martha and pushed the iPad to one side.
“I know that you and your crew will be with us so we will feel we are in the best hands, but we would so much like to see what it feels like to sail in this boat. Ten thousand euro for a week is, as you will appreciate, a great deal of money, so everything must feel right.”
“Of course,” answered the captain obligingly and he gave a sign to his colleagues to get things ready. Martha got up. The yacht was one of the fastest and most modern in the Mediterranean and, besides, it was brand new. The crew would presumably need to become better acquainted with the boat and would probably be only too happy to agree to the little trip, she had worked out. And she hadn’t been wrong. The first mate and the engineer lit up.
“It isn’t much fun being moored here in the harbor, and we’ve time for a little trip,” said the first mate, and the engineer nodded eagerly, almost giving a salute, before taking the lift down to the engine room. The first mate took up his position on the command bridge.
“Great!” exclaimed Rake when the engines started up and he could again breathe in that familiar smell of diesel.
“Oh how wonderful!” Brains lied, not really wanting to go out to sea at all, as he would have preferred to have watched TV or enjoyed a good dinner. Or why not simply a nice little walk among the workshops in Saint-Tropez.
“Why don’t we drink some champagne and celebrate our little trip here in the Mediterranean?” Martha suggested, and she fumbled in her handbag to pull out the bottles of champagne she had brought with her.
“The best champagne in the world!” Martha enthused and she waved one of the most expensive champagne bottles she had ever bought. The captain, who had already asked the first mate to cast off the mooring lines, was distracted by Martha’s bottle waving, and it didn’t get any better when she took a firm hold of the lapels of his uniform jacket and pulled him out onto the deck.
“Arret, arret!” he called out to the first mate and then turned toward Martha.
“But madame, I must . . .” he began, but Martha just leaned her head to one side and prodded him with the champagne bottle.
“This is a really superb champagne!” she gabbled on. “Come on, why don’t we?” She smiled and strode across to the nearest deckchair where she plonked herself down. The chairs were placed around an oval table together with some cane furniture not far from the inflatable waterslide down into the sea. There was a large bubble-pool close by. She pushed the captain into the chair next to her and then pulled out some champagne glasses from the big handbag. The captain, who realized that the charter fee had not yet been paid, understood that he must humor his customers and so he gave in. With a smile he accepted a glass and signaled to the first mate to take over the bridge. But he had hardly got the glass in his hand before Martha grabbed hold of the first mate too as he walked past them.
“Pour vous!” She beamed and g
ave him a glass too. Now Anna-Greta, Rake and Christina came and sat down as well, and then Rake opened the bottle with his customary elegance and filled their glasses. Martha put out some chips and salted peanuts and opened a can of olives which she put on the table. Then she raised her glass, gave a toast and made sure everybody drank their champagne. When the engineer came up on deck, Brains opened the second bottle.
“Aren’t we going to leave now?” the engineer wondered, but he was soon silenced with a glass.
“Well, cheers to you too!” Martha called out, and again she made sure that all the crew emptied their glasses which she quickly filled again. Then she started humming a drinking song, after which the League of Pensioners sang some Swedish songs in parts before ending their mini-concert with “Drunken Sailor.”
By now, a warm and merry mood had spread to all on board and Martha triumphantly held up the empty bottles above her head in a wild gesture of victory. She pointed to herself and the captain and threw out her arms.
“Now it is time to dance, is it not? A slow dance!”
“A slow—oh no, no, I don’t think, I must—” he began, but was stopped by Martha who put her hand on his chest.
“Captain, you love to dance, I can see it in your eyes!”
Somewhat irritated, the captain lifted her hand away and tried to push past, and as he did so he caused Martha to lose her balance. Taking a few wobbling steps backwards, she stumbled and fell straight into the waterslide. She tried to grab the edge but the waterslide was wet and the next second she had landed on the soft, inflatable plastic and was sliding down at great speed toward the sea.
“Help, help, my God, she can’t swim!” Brains shouted shrilly, and he waved his arms and began to take off his shirt.
“No, no don’t!” the captain objected, as he felt he was responsible for what had happened. Without even bothering to take off his jacket, he threw himself into the sea. The first mate and the engineer—now both a little tipsy too—also rushed to the railing and threw themselves in. Martha herself, who had actually fallen onto the waterslide on purpose, was the only one to take things calmly. She heard the three splashes when the crew jumped into the sea, and smiled to herself. Getting them to leave the boat had worked better than she had dreamed, and now the yacht was in the hands of the League of Pensioners! She now squawked like a seagull three times which was the pre-agreed signal that everything had gone well, and then she swam away from the bottom of the waterslide and into the shadows under the pier. There she stayed completely still while she looked to see where the captain and the others were. When she caught sight of them, she moved behind a big pillar and hid there while the three frantically searched for her. Christina, who was watching from up on deck, got rather worried.
“Must try to help, what if something happens to the crew,” she mumbled, rather tipsy, and she looked around for a life ring. She looked around up on deck but couldn’t find anything, so she tried to find life jackets instead. But she couldn’t find any life-saving equipment at all. All she could see were some colorful swimming toys by the pool. There was a beach ball and two smiling inflatable seahorses. Those will float nicely and are easy to hold on to, she thought. She leaned over the railing and threw them down.
“What the hell? Pool toys? I think I’m going to faint,” groaned Rake and he put his hands on his forehead.
Down in the water, Martha stayed hidden while the crew continued their desperate search, and when the captain and the others started to search closer to the harbor, she swam off in the opposite direction. When she felt she was safe, she quickly raised her hand above the water and waved so that Nils would see her. But she had been too careless. The men in the water managed to catch a glimpse of her too.
Nils, in dark clothes and with a blue marine sports bag over his shoulder, realized that they had seen her. He had been standing ready with a life ring and binoculars up on the pier and had seen Martha’s dark silhouette swish down the waterslide. As soon as he saw her land with a splash of water, he threw out the life ring. Then he opened the bag and pulled out the wire cutters hidden among various women’s clothes, gloves, a shawl, a hat and some heavily weighted belts. He checked that there was no one watching, rushed up to the electricity distribution board panel, and cut the main cable. The lights on the pier all went out and the motor yacht and everything around it also fell into darkness. It was a good thing that they had a backup plan, he thought, and he noted with satisfaction that the men now seemed to be swimming in the wrong direction. All he could hear was their splashing and their calls to Martha.
“Madame, madame!” they shouted, but nobody answered.
“Elle est là, elle est là! Nils called out, and he threw the sports bag in a wide arch toward the place where Martha had first plopped into the sea. The bag fell in with a big splash and slowly started to sink. On the surface floated a scarf, ladies’ stockings and a hat—of exactly the same type that Martha had worn. Then he ran quickly to the little platform out on the pier where he had promised to wait for her.
“Well, I did pass my swimming test in school with full honors!” she panted with a blocked nose and her mouth full of water when Nils had got hold of her arm and, with considerable effort, had pulled her up onto the pier. When she was on the quay, water dripped from her clothes and her hair was completely soaked. Nils lifted up his sweater and pulled out her waist bag with money, a plastic bag with a little towel and Martha’s light summer dress with the flowers on it. She quickly dried herself, stepped out of the wet black dress and pulled the dry one over her head. But she kept her boat shoes on. Because whatever else happened, she must not fall down. Using the waterslide had been risky enough, and when you are old you really should keep two feet on the ground. Then she dried her hair as best she could and shoved the wet dress and towel into the plastic bag.
“Lovely, Nils. Now the boat is all yours. Good luck!” she said and she patted him on the back. The evening breeze blew toward the quay and the port side was rubbing against the fenders.
“I’ll deal with the mooring lines from the bow,” he said and he loosened the heavy line with some difficulty. Martha watched and followed him to the bollard near the stern where she helped too. Now it was a question of shoving off quickly. At any moment the crew might return and try to get back on board the yacht again. She anxiously looked out over the water but couldn’t see them in the dark. Nils followed her gaze.
“It’s all right, Martha, the crew is busy trying to find you. By now your hat, scarf and stockings will be floating around down there in the inner harbor.”
“Too bad about the hat, but it was a good idea,” Martha said.
“Righto, all hands on deck!” said Nils and he managed to catch hold of the ladder before the boat slipped away. He checked a final time to see if the captain and his men were visible, but there was no sign of them. He hurried up the ladder and then took the stairs two at a time up to the bridge. At last he would be able to maneuver a ship again!
“I knew you would manage it,” said Rake, proudly, when he saw his son in the doorway. “Everything is under control. So I’ll go down to the engine room.”
“Fine. The engine is going, and the lines have been released. That’s it, then. Now we only have to get up speed.”
But Rake didn’t hear him, as he was already on his way down to the engine room in the elevator. Nils pulled the joystick toward him with a heavenly smile and was delighted. Everything had gone according to plan and now they were on their way! And he just loved being out at sea again!
Feeling most satisfied despite her wet hair, Martha stood on the quay and watched as Nils over-excitedly boarded Bielke’s boat and made his way up to the bridge. It had taken more than a week to plan the coup, but they had also succeeded in carrying everything out, right down to the smallest detail. She was so pleased that she waved as the yacht slowly made its way out of the harbor, and, full of enthusiasm, she fumbled for her flowery handbag to get the champagne out. This most certainly called
for another toast! She fumbled a long time but only felt her waist bag. It was then that she remembered that both the handbag and the champagne with the accompanying glasses were still up on deck. And that wasn’t the worst of it. She, too, should have been on board.
51
SOME DISTANCE AWAY FROM THE BIG MOTOR YACHT ONE could hear a violent splashing and a great deal of swearing in French. And even though the lights on the pier were not working, there was enough light for both the stranded Martha and the restaurant guests in the harbor to see when three men with a scarf, a hat with a veil and two smiling inflated seahorses splashed back to the quay. The white newly ironed uniforms were wet, the shoes were full of seaweed and the captain’s new uniform cap had floated away.
“MERDE!” echoed out over the water when the crew realized that the boat had left the pier and was on its way out of the harbor.
“Merde!” swore the captain when he realized he had been conned and, besides, had also been photographed when he had clung on to one of the seahorses.
“Merde,” hissed the engineer when he heard the engines get up into high rev and saw the yacht head out to sea. Swearing, he tried to free himself of the scarf around one pant leg and the old-fashioned ladies’ hose that had wrapped around his neck. Together with the others, and soaking wet and furious, he climbed up onto land just below one of the restaurants.
When the men stood there with a hat with a veil and hose on their uniforms, Martha came walking in from the pier. In the light of the restaurant she caught sight of them, stopped and dipped in among the shadows. She waited until they had turned away and then she slipped along the wall and managed to get past them. She reached the street and quickly waved down a taxi.
“Cannes!” she said and then settled comfortably in the back seat. Admittedly, she wasn’t on board the boat, but this would work just as well. Even better, when she thought about it. Now she could travel by road to Cannes where Oleg and his friends awaited them at the restaurant. But first she would stop off at one of those department stores which were open in the evenings. She must make a photocopy of the certificate of ownership and buy a new handbag and a bit of this and that necessary for the negotiations.
The Little Old Lady Behaving Badly Page 30