The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules (32 page)

‘Now listen, we’ll pay him as agreed. I mean, he can’t be a member of the League of Pensioners,’ Martha protested.

When the two security guards had swapped the cases behind the ATM, they took the old case, opened the back doors and put it inside. Then they locked the doors and went and sat in the front. The back door lock hadn’t engaged properly, but they hadn’t noticed because Brains had sprayed the camera lens and disconnected the alarm. Martha quickly put the van into first gear, accelerated and then went straight into fourth gear, which stalled the engine, and the Green Menace came to a halt diagonally in front of the Loomis van. While Martha pretended to start the engine again, Christina, supported by Rake, tottered up to the van’s driver’s door and knocked on the window. She had on a dark wig, was heavily made-up and wore plastic fangs from a joke shop. Rake, for his part, had a light beard
and wig and looked much younger than he was. When the driver rolled down the window, Rake discreetly went round the van to the other door.

‘The engine has stalled. Could you possibly help us?’ Christina asked, pointing at the van. Meanwhile, Anna-Greta came alongside with a bunch of flowers drenched in ether.

‘This is for you,’ she said, smiling kindly, and pushed the flowers through the window and right into the faces of the guards. Then she jammed her walking stick under the door handle. The guards attempted to get out the other side, but Rake had already squirted Instant Glue into the lock. The next moment, Christina poured the entire contents of the ether bottle onto the driver’s seat and just managed to get her hand in through the gap in the door to close the side window before the men turned round. Then she slammed the door.

‘Now you’ve no possibility of getting out,’ she mumbled proudly and became almost disappointed when she saw that the guards had already become unconscious. Then Anna-Greta quickly retrieved her stick and the walker and returned with Christina to the van. Brains and Rake moved to the back doors of the Loomis van. When Anders drove up with his trailer, they had already managed to ease the doors open.

‘The simplest things cause the most difficulties,’ said Brains as he chipped away the resin with the metal shavings.

The trailer was loaded with two freezers filled with carbon dioxide snow and a box of paper streamers. Balloons had been tied to the sides of the trailer, and in one corner there
was a large poster proclaiming: Congratulations! Anders jumped up onto the trailer and opened the freezers, and while the white carbon dioxide mist ran down from them Brains and Rake grabbed the first two security cases. They placed them carefully on Rake’s walker.

‘Easy does it so we don’t trigger the mechanism,’ Brains urged, but Rake walked softly and safely towards the trailer on his seaman’s legs. After which Anders—who was wearing thick gloves—lowered first one case and then the other into the freezer and put some ice on top. When they had got eight of the cases into the freezers and turned round to fetch the last one, Martha suddenly called out.

‘Hurry up. We must be off.’ She pointed at a group of men in suits carrying briefcases who were coming towards them. The men were talking loudly and rapidly approaching.

‘We’ll just manage the last one,’ Brains said as Rake hurried off. This time, too, they succeeded in getting the case into the carbon dioxide snow and had barely closed the back doors of the Loomis van before the suits got to the trailer.

‘You can’t park here,’ one of them said, kicking the wheel.

‘Be careful!’ Martha shrieked, almost in falsetto, but Anders was quicker. He pressed the lids of the freezers shut and gave a wide smile.

‘Hen party! What a lovely surprise she’s going to get, the bride,’ he said and winked at them. ‘Never get married,’ he added. Then he gave each of them a balloon before getting back into the car. He slowly engaged first gear and drove off. Martha gaped at this and thought that perhaps he wasn’t so hopeless after all. Together with Brains and Rake, she hurried
into the van again. When the men had closed the doors off they drove.

‘Now we’re on our way,’ Anna-Greta’s satisfied voice could be heard. ‘They should have seen this at the bank.’

Martha pulled out from the parking area and followed Anders out from the district and then towards the E4 and Arlanda airport.

‘Amazing, it worked!’ Rake called out.

‘Mind you, we aren’t on the plane yet,’ said Martha, accelerating.

It wasn’t until they were approaching Sollentuna that she noticed the car behind them. It was a grey Mercedes.

‘Why the hell did you have to go and get a hot dog? Now we’ve lost them again,’ Lönnberg hissed while he looked out across the parking area. It was almost dark and he couldn’t see the taxibus. Such a large vehicle ought to be easy to make out, but it was green, of course, an awkward colour at this time of year.

‘Now, now, you had a hamburger and you spilt all that ketchup on the driver’s seat. Above all, you could have kept your eyes open. You should never run over something lying in the road,’ Strömbeck replied.

‘But damn it! How was I supposed to know that that somebody had dropped a carton of nails?’ Lönnberg muttered.

‘A hundred galvanized fluted nails that’d pierce any tire,’
Strömbeck said, to make it clearer. ‘Lucky we had a spare with us.’

‘That’s enough. End of subject. We’ve got to find the oldies.’

‘All we need now is for them to do something foolish. Then I’d apply for retraining. New career,’ said Strömbeck.

‘Me too,’ said Lönnberg, starting the car and putting it into first gear. ‘But I don’t think we need to worry. They’ll have gone to the chiropodist this time too.’

‘Hang on, you don’t usually find those inside ATMs.’

Lönnberg pretended not to hear, accelerated and completely forgot to look in the rear-view mirror. If he had, he would have seen the jack and all the tools lying in the road.

Martha breathed deeply a few times and pressed the accelerator harder.

‘What shall we do? The Mercedes is following us.’

‘Oh Christ, the Mercedes? Any car but that!’ said Brains, who immediately realized what it was about. The grey Mercedes outside Diamond House … that was what he had been worried about. Juro and his brothers—they had followed him. At first, perhaps they only intended borrowing him for technical consultations, but then they had probably understood what was in the offing. Timing the visits to the ATMs, loitering outside Täby, test driving with the trailer the day before. Juro and his mates knew exactly what it was about. Fifteen to twenty million …

‘The Yugoslavs,’ he mumbled. ‘And Anders, who’s on his way to the barn.’

‘Oh Lord, I think they’re going to force us off the road,’ said Martha.

‘Phone Anders and say we’ll be late. Meanwhile, we can try to shake them off,’ Christina suggested.

‘We’ll all be getting a good shaking,’ said Martha. ‘No, hang on, I know—’ she said and made a sudden U-turn.

Rake gave a curse and almost fell off his seat.

‘What the hell? You and your driving …’

‘What in the name of heaven are you doing?’ Anna-Greta cried out.

‘Next stop, Danderyd Church. I’ve got an idea,’ said Martha. It wasn’t as though they could object, because she was already going at full speed, hunched over the steering wheel. ‘We’re in for a rough ride!’

‘Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of,’ Rake grumbled.

When the medieval church came into view along the highway, Martha changed to a lower gear and took the next exit. The engine was screaming and Brains hoped that the van was going to cope with this. You never knew whether to trust Internet purchases. He glanced in the rear-view mirror; the Mercedes was still after them. He also caught sight of another familiar car. A dark blue Volvo.

‘No, not that too. Now we’ve got two cars chasing us!’ he groaned. Martha checked the rear-view mirror.

‘The mafia and the police. That really is—’ She made a sharp turn towards the church.

‘But Martha, you’ve gone the wrong way. Stop! We should be on the way to Arlanda!’ Christina squealed, confused.

‘Didn’t you say that we should shake off our pursuers?’ Martha answered

‘With a van? Don’t tell me you’re going to lower the ramp too,’ groaned Rake.

‘But why are we going to the church?’ Anna-Greta gasped and hung on to the door handle for all she was worth.

‘We’ll go inside and pray,’ Martha answered and slowed down.

‘Not that too,’ Rake sighed.

Martha braked and the van came to a halt.

‘I’ll drop you off here and park the van a bit farther away. Take the walkers and go slowly into the church. When you get to the altar, make the sign of the cross.’

‘Like hell I will,’ said Rake.

‘Well, pick up a psalm book, then. Walk slowly and dignified as if you were going to a religious service. Don’t forget that we are old and confused. It we take things calmly then we will look innocent and nobody will think we are up to anything suspicious.’

‘But the mafia and the police. We can’t damn well—’ started Rake.

‘Out with you. Hurry up!’

‘Two cars are chasing us and you make us go into a church,’ Brains sighed.

‘I’ll explain later. Into the church now. This is going to work out OK, and as soon as we’re done we can continue to the airport. But don’t forget the walkers.’ Martha shooed her friends out of the van and closed the door. Then she parked as close to the church as she could.

‘Oh hell, now I give up,’ said Inspector Lönnberg when he saw the van turn off towards Danderyd Church. ‘When we finally find them again, they’re on their way to church. No way am I bloody well going to sit through a church service.’

‘But what are they doing there? Sermons and that sort of stuff, that’s only on Sundays,’ Strömbeck reflected.

‘They will be confessing their sins.’

‘Unless they’re after the church silver, of course.’

‘Look, it’s past six o’clock. Our shift has finished. I reckon we should push off,’ said Lönnberg. ‘I’ve had my fill of trailing those van carcasses.’ He eased up on the accelerator and looked longingly towards the city.

‘You can’t say that. We must carry on following them. Who knows what they might have been up to since we lost them in Täby. What about all the ATMs they visited yesterday?’ said Strömbeck.

‘Perhaps the word ATM features in one of their crosswords. Ah, come on, relax. Let’s push off.’

‘No, not until we have been relieved. Otherwise Petterson will blow his top,’ Strömbeck insisted.

‘OK, we’ll take a minute to check on them.’ He changed gear, turned off towards the church and drove into the parking lot outside.

‘If they’ve stolen something, the money ought to be in the van, oughtn’t it?’ Strömbeck said.

‘Hang on, just look over there. They’re going into the church with their walkers and all,’ said Lönnberg.

‘Let ‘em be. But we are going to search the van. You never
know. We might catch them red-handed,’ said Strömbeck. He had made up his mind. The two policemen got out and went up to the driver’s side of the van and knocked on the window.

‘Police!’

Martha wound down the window.

‘Well now, good afternoon, good afternoon to you,’ she said with a smile. ‘My, oh my, what fancy uniforms you’re wearing today.’

To his horror, Lönnberg felt he was blushing. He leaned towards her.

‘We’d like to check the vehicle. Please open the back doors,’ he said.

‘But goodness gracious, are you looking for smuggled goods? That is exciting. I’ll open them straight away. Do you want me to lower the ramp?’

‘No, thank you, we’ll manage,’ Strömbeck muttered.

‘If you find anything nice, couldn’t you give it to me? The pension, you know. It doesn’t stretch so far nowadays.’

Strömbeck was just about to answer when the police radio sounded an alarm signal. He stopped and looked towards the Volvo.

‘Lönnberg, there’s something on the radio!’

‘Oh, hell, an alarm. Run and check, and I’ll carry on here,’ said Lönnberg. ‘This time I’m not going to give up. Now I’m going to nail them.’

Determinedly, he walked round the van and yanked open the back doors. A walking stick, a pair of support stockings and some incontinence pads fell out. He climbed in and started to look around but was interrupted by Strömbeck, who came running back.

‘Lönnberg! There’s been a big robbery …’

‘What was I saying? Now we’ve got them. I bet you—’

‘But can’t you see? There’s nothing at all in here. They can’t have stolen
invisible
banknotes, can they?’

That very same moment they heard the sound of a Mercedes diesel engine. The two policemen looked up. The car was going slowly as if the driver was looking for something.

‘Well, now, look there! A grey Mercedes. What if it’s the Yugoslavs?’

‘Perhaps that’s what the alarm is about.’

‘Smart of them to withdraw to a church. I’ll check the registration number.’ Strömbeck ran back to the Volvo again and turned on the computer. After a few moments clicking, he gave a whistle and jumped out of the car.

‘You were right. It is Juro, damn it. Forget the pensioners, let’s check the Mercedes instead,’ he said.

‘Oh, great, real villains. This is more like it!’ Lönnberg slammed the back doors shut, mumbled an apology to Martha and ran after Strömbeck. Strömbeck knocked on the window of the Mercedes. The driver lowered the window.

‘Can we have a look at your driving licence, please?’ Strömbeck asked.

‘Of course.’ The driver pretended to be looking for it, but instead engaged first gear. With a roar, the car shot off.

‘Bloody hell!’ Strömbeck screamed and ran back to the Volvo.

‘We’ll follow them,’ Lönnberg shouted as he jumped in and pushed the accelerator to the floor. ‘Now we’ll nail them.’
A bit of action at last
, he thought. Now, finally, they had something sensible to do.

Martha saw the dark blue Volvo start off in pursuit of the Mercedes.

‘There now. That worked like a charm,’ she said with a happy smile as the two cars disappeared at high speed in the direction of the highway. The noise had brought the other pensioners out of the church. They approached the van and crowded around the driver’s window to find out what had just happened.

‘That was close,’ Martha explained. ‘When Lönnberg came inside the van, I thought we were finished. Even though Anders has the money, the cop could have found some traces of our crime.’

‘It happened so quickly. We had hardly got in through the church doors,’ said Christina, making herself comfortable on the back seat.

‘Yeah, all we had to do was turn round and come back to the van,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘But you order us around like a dictator.’

Rake looked annoyed. ‘Can you explain this? I haven’t a clue what happened,’ he said.

‘Didn’t you see? They were the same cars that have been outside Diamond House. Every time the dark blue Volvo turned up, the grey Mercedes vanished. The Yugoslav mafia recognized the police and that was why they drove off. I thought if we drove in here they would catch sight of each other and leave us alone. And it worked. Now we can continue in peace.’

Brains gave Martha an admiring look. How did she manage it?

‘Just think, we got rid of
both
the grey and the dark blue car,’ said Christina.

‘He up above has helped us,’ said Anna-Greta, rolling her eyes and looking up at the ceiling of the van.

‘No, it was Martha,’ said Brains.

‘Now, now, I know that of course, I was just joking,’ said Anna-Greta. She started singing her favourite old pop song, which she sang time and again the whole way to Sollentuna. Martha drove at more than 100 kph and it wasn’t until they left the highway and turned down a little unpaved road that she slowed down. Anders should be waiting for them with all the money—if he hadn’t absconded with the loot, of course. Martha had seen how well he had arranged everything about the robbery, and she had begun to change her opinion of him. There
ought
not to be any need for her to be worried, but … She looked at her watch. If everything went according to plan, then they would have time to get the money and make it on the last evening flight. To be on the safe side, Anna-Greta had booked with a proper airline. They didn’t want to risk one of the low-price flights, and it was important for them to know that they would get to the right destination and not be denied boarding because of a shortage of seats. While Martha drove, she thought about everything that Anders had had to do. Had he actually done it all? Now her doubts came back: could they really trust him? In less than half an hour, she would find out.

Anders looked at the security cases one last time and raised the axe. Then he stopped. Was the temperature really cold enough? As soon as he had arrived at the barn, he had connected the freezers to the electricity supply. It was best to check how many degrees they had reached now so that he didn’t spoil everything. The cases needed to be completely frozen and the ampoules of dye had to be minus 20 or colder. The carbon dioxide snow was great stuff, but it took time to freeze things, and to be on the safe side he decided to wait a little longer. He looked at the door out of the corner of his eye. It was weird that Christina and the others were taking so long. The League of Pensioners ought to have been here ages ago. As long as they hadn’t got caught in a routine traffic-police check, or had got a flat tire or been involved in something else, he thought. That could ruin everything. It had all happened so fast that they didn’t have any plan B. So the plan they did have simply
had to
work. At the same time, he didn’t dare phone them. Maybe the police were waiting at the other end, ready to trace the call. Best to lie low.

He paced back and forth in the barn a long while until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He took the first case out of the freezer. He fetched the axe, spat on the palms of his hands and grabbed hold of the handle. By now everything ought to be frozen, and the GPS would be out of action … just as long as the ampoules didn’t contain linseed-oil dye, because that didn’t freeze, but the banks would certainly use old, cheap artificial dyes, he was certain of that. Cautiously he approached the first security case, took aim with the axe and, with a powerful swing, smashed the ampoule. He waited. Listened. Nothing happened. Not a trace of dye seeped out. Then he dared open
the case and felt a wave of joy when he saw the banknotes. Encouraged by this, he took out the next case too, but stopped when he heard a vehicle approaching outside the barn. He ran his fingers through his hair, straightened his back and took a few hesitant steps towards the door, where he stopped to listen. He was still cautious, so he waited until he heard three knocks, followed by a pause and then two quick knocks. Oh, thank God, they were here now. He slid the lock back and pushed the door open.

‘Everything under control?’ Brains asked and stepped in, followed by the others.

Anders nodded.

‘Where are the paintings?’

‘In the car. Hang on.’ Anders walked to the car, opened the door and lifted a large painting out. ‘Now I hope that your calculations are correct. Four layers of five-hundred-kronor notes on a sixty-five by ninety-five canvas. That’s not much.’

‘Right, but Christina’s two canvases are larger. You know, she had to do something bigger than ever before.’ Brains said with a grin.

‘Yes, and then we’ve got all the other canvases as well as the paintings you are taking as hand luggage. I just hope the plastic wrap works.’

‘It did at Diamond House. If the paintings get more or less distorted, it doesn’t matter, does it? It’s modern art.’

‘Now please, we have work to do.’ Martha cut them short. Her tone was so sharp that everyone knew that now they were in a hurry. While Martha took the banknotes out of the security cases, the men took some wooden frames and some blank canvases and placed them on a table nearby. Then they took
a stack of boards that had been painted with rather garish scenes—the handiwork of Christina and Anna-Greta—and a rectangular, loose canvas, the work of Martha.

‘Christina and Anna-Greta, now it’s your turn,’ Brains called out.

The women laid the five-hundred-kronor banknotes in an even layer on top of the canvases. Martha secured each layer with a thin plastic net before adding the next layer, and in that way spread several layers of banknotes across each canvas before sealing it with plastic wrap and gluing the corners. Not until then did Rake and Brains attached the painted boards to the canvases with glue and secure them inside the frames so that they looked like ordinary paintings. While they worked away, Anna-Greta’s eyes glistened with pleasure. She liked being surrounded by all these bills, and she had never seen as many as these during all her days at the bank.

They laboured away, silently and calmly, but it was a fiddly job getting everything right and they soon got tired. Martha had brought along coffee and sandwiches, and after a little break when they discussed customs procedures, metal detectors and various types of X-ray equipment, they continued with their work. Just before half past eight in the evening they were ready, and they all looked very pleased with themselves.

As they were carrying the paintings to the Green Menace, Anna-Greta suddenly stopped.

‘Oh my God! There are still some banknotes in one of the cases,’ she called out, disappointed. ‘At least a million is left.’

‘Well, Anders must get a little something,’ Christina quickly retorted. ‘He is going to administer us. And Emma, she—’

‘Do you call one million “a little something”? One million for paper and stamps?’ said Anna-Greta almost reaching thunderous tones.

‘But we promised to pay for Gunnar’s journeys too, didn’t we? That will cost money as well,’ said Brains.

‘Oh yes, that’s right. Yes, we had decided that.’ Anna-Greta was silent a few moments, but then exploded: ‘Oh my God, we’ve forgotten something!’ she exclaimed, putting her hands over her face. ‘The money in the drainpipe!’

‘Forgotten? No, not at all,’ Martha reassured everybody. ‘I’ll tell you later, but now we must be off to the airport. Into the van with you.’

They all realized that time was short, and they climbed into the van. It took a little longer than usual because the paintings were in the way and they had to squeeze past them. When Anders was about to close the back doors, he hesitated, pointed at the works of art and grinned.

‘The League of Pensioners strikes again!’

‘Old people are capable,’ Anna-Greta snorted, accompanied by a happy murmur from the others. Martha wound down the window.

‘Sorry to be leaving you with the dreary work still to do,’ she said as she started the van. ‘But like we said, you’ll get paid. Thanks anyhow, and give Emma our best.’

‘I will do, and I’ll cover your tracks and take the vacuum cleaner and the freezers to the recycling station,’ said Anders.

‘Ah, poor boy,’ said Christina. ‘Come across and visit us so we can repay you as well as Emma. What are you going to do with the Green Menace?’

‘Like we agreed. We’ll leave it at the drop-off point outside
the Arlanda terminal,’ said Martha, winding up the window again. ‘Then nobody will pay any attention to it until about a week has passed, and by then we will be far away.’

‘Unless I fetch it before then,’ Anders mumbled.

‘Right then, off we go,’ Brains said.

‘No, hang on a second,’ said Christina, and she got out of the van again. She put her arms round Anders. ‘Now take care of yourself, my boy, and give Emma some of the money too. Don’t forget to say hello to her and little Malin from me.’ She pushed a bundle of notes into his hand. ‘This is a little advance, and remember that you and Emma will be even richer if you wait for all of your inheritance. If you don’t use that million properly, then you won’t inherit anything at all. Nothing!’

‘Yes, Mother, yes. I know.’ Anders smiled and gave her a hug.

When the five arrived at Arlanda all of them were feeling very tense. So far everything had gone well, and they didn’t want to trip at the finishing line. They tried to keep calm and walk in a slow and dignified manner up to the cluster of ticket machines. They had no problem getting the tickets printed because they had all practised pressing the buttons on those horrid, impersonal machines, and now they even succeeded in getting the machines to give them the baggage tags too! Their suitcases were the correct weight and as they were all labelled with stickers proclaiming ‘Old People Are Capable’, they were greeted at the check-in desk with a smile, and that, too, went smoothly. Then there were the paintings.

‘Do you think they will let us go on board with this?’ Christina asked, pointing at Anna-Greta’s abstract painting,
which looked like a woman seen from behind, with a rosette and tangled hair. In this painting, their friend had slapped on a great deal of paint. The work of art was not exactly high class. To put it bluntly, it was dreadful. Anna-Greta saw her friends’ hesitant faces.

‘This is not about what a painting looks like, but about whether the picture is the right size for carry-on luggage,’ she said.

The other paintings weren’t much better, but they were colourful, well-framed and not a centimetre over the maximum size allowed.

‘Ah, you have special baggage,’ the woman behind the check-in desk noted. When she saw Martha’s rectangular work of art, she seemed uncertain.

‘I don’t know about that,’ she said.

‘This is very fragile and means a lot to me,’ said Martha with a trembling voice as she patted the frame. She had put several layers of paint on the canvas and then slashed through it all with a palette knife like a genuine Fontana. It would make it easier to get the money out, she reckoned.

‘You’re going to Barbados, I see,’ said the woman behind the desk.

‘Yes, to Bridgetown. That’s where we are going to have our exhibit.’

‘Oh, how nice. And you are flying business class, I see. I’ll ask the flight attendant to take care of the painting. It’s nice for pensioners to paint. Without artists, society would lose its soul.’

‘We’ve already lost ours,’ Martha mumbled.

A little while later, when they were going through security, it wasn’t quite as easy as Martha had hoped With the X-ray
machine, the guards immediately discovered a palette knife that she had hidden in her purse belt and she was abruptly stopped.

‘What’s this?’ one of the guards asked in an authoritative voice, looking at her painting.

Martha pointed at the label on the corner of the frame.

‘See that?
Storm of Roses
, it’s called. It’s the best I’ve ever done.’ This wasn’t a lie, because she had never painted before. Admittedly, you couldn’t see any sign of roses, but Martha thought it was a good name. The heavily painted canvas hid lots and lots of banknotes.

‘I’m not sure we can let this through,’ said the guard.

‘Tell me you like it. That would please me so much,’ Martha appealed to him, patting the painting with one hand. ‘Please!’

So she was waved through, and shortly afterwards, Brains, Rake and Anna-Greta also went through with their paintings. But when it was Christina’s turn, the light turned red.

‘Ooops!’ she gasped and looked unhappy. Her painting, unlike the others, was wrapped in brown paper.

‘We will have to put this through the X-ray once more,’ said the guard.

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Christina, and the others stared. Rake stood there nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Anna-Greta was completely silent, Brains raised his eyebrows and Martha felt her knees tremble. Considering the circumstances, their friend seemed remarkably calm. Quickly she tore off the paper wrapping, revealing a bunch of red push pins that were stuck into the painting. She gave the guard a wide smile. ‘Perhaps I went a bit far here, but this painting is rather special. It’s called Brass, you see.
Unfortunately, I forgot about the push pins.’

The security guards stared at the cluster of red push pins and didn’t know what to think. One of them reached out and picked up something else from the table.