WE MUST CALL TIMEOUT. I THINK THE VINTAGE VILLAGE WILL have to wait,” said Martha, patting Anna-Greta on her cheek. Her friend’s eyes were red from crying, she looked tired and her posture was dejected. She had slept most of the morning and had looked quite a wreck when she woke up. Without saying a word, she had eaten breakfast, refused to answer questions and not until she had drunk her coffee and finished eating had she managed to pull herself together to such a degree that she had asked the others to come into the library.
“I’m afraid I have bad news. Very bad news,” she said straight away with a thick voice. Her friends waited nervously. To be on the safe side, Martha had brought along some cloudberry liqueur and a bottle of whiskey, should it be needed, but nobody looked at those treats. Anna-Greta searched for the right words and mumbled something about fire and treachery before she finally came out with what was tormenting her.
“We have been fooled, totally fooled!” she sighed ominously and then started to tell them everything. For obvious reasons she bypassed what she and Blomberg had been doing there in the dark and went directly to the power cut and the generator that had stopped. She went into some detail about the collapsed dating system too, before she turned silent and sort of took some deep breaths.
“Yes, Anna-Greta we know all that. Get to the point,” exclaimed Rake. Then she took yet another deep breath before she started a matter-of-fact description of the fire and how the fire department had managed to put the fire out and that nothing more than the fenders, a bit of the gunwale and some loose items up on deck had been damaged by the flames. But then it got harder.
“Come on now, out with it!” Rake snorted. “I can see that there’s something that’s difficult for you to spit out.”
Then Anna-Greta started sniveling again, loudly and out of control so that her whole body shook.
“But goodness me, whatever is the matter, my dear?” wondered Martha. She picked up the whiskey bottle. But Anna-Greta simply pushed it away and folded her hanky. Then she put her hands on her lap, interlaced her fingers this way and that way before she exclaimed:
“Blomberg is a scoundrel!”
“Not that guy who is so nice, surely?” Christina broke in. Anna-Greta sniffled a bit more and then dried her eyes.
“Yes, that’s him! And we listened to records and then he helped me with the iPad. But—”
“But what?” wondered Brains impatiently.
“He’s a policeman!”
“A policeman?!” A buzz of dismay went through the room.
“An officer! That’s impossible!” exclaimed Christina, dropping both her nail file and her compact on the floor.
“Do you think he knows anything?” Brains wondered. “Perhaps he visited the restaurant for private reasons. I mean the speed dating and all that.”
“I’ve no idea. He said that he was a retiree and some sort of consultant, but it seems he was lying. Because when he caught sight of the Weasel he immediately reacted: “So it’s you, you scum!” he shouted and then set off after him. Then I found the policemen’s association card in his overcoat.”
“But Anna-Greta, in that case it isn’t us he’s chasing,” Martha reassured her.
“But the Weasel was evidently a criminal and Blomberg knew that. Then he must know everything about the Nordea robbery and the other stuff we have been involved in,” Christina said.
Now there was silence while they all reflected upon what Anna-Greta had told them.
“You know what, there is only one thing to do. I suggest we take some time off and flee the area a while,” said Martha.
“If politicians take time out when they’ve done something stupid, then can’t we do the same? Even if we haven’t done anything as crazy as they usually do,” Christina put in.
“Oh yes, and we’ve done a few sneaky things ourselves,” said Rake.
Martha looked from one to the other. The rest that she had enjoyed over the last few days had meant that she felt better and could think clearly.
“Now listen. I vote that we hand over the responsibility for the restaurant to Anders and Emma for a while. Christina, your children will quite simply have to run everything until further notice and then we can come back when things have calmed down. And meanwhile, my dear friends, I have a plan.”
“Oh that’s unusual,” said Rake.
“I am not a banker, of course, but this much I do understand: our bank robbery money and the profit from the restaurant are a drop in the ocean. Soon we won’t have anything left to give away in our goody bags. We need large sums of money to be able to continue with our bonus payments to those with very low wages.”
“And we must never forget culture,” Anna-Greta added automatically in a voice that had become a little brighter. “But listen. We have our Visa card and there is more money we can take from the Cayman Islands.”
“That isn’t enough. We must get at really large amounts!”
“Oh sure, the big money. Easy as pie,” said Rake.
“Don’t say we are going to be criminals again,” sighed Brains.
“That depends on how you look at it,” said Martha, and she took a wafer and served some more coffee. “Now, we have handed out several million. Then we’ve got the drainpipe money and some of the Las Vegas diamonds in the aquarium, but then, well . . .”
“What! Have you got diamonds among the frog spawn?” Christina wondered, amazed. “I had no idea.”
Martha looked down and her cheeks turned completely red. Because she had actually completely forgotten about the diamonds herself, and had only now remembered after she had been able to have a good rest. They had an aquarium down in the cellar, and inspired by earlier experiences she had realized that an aquarium was just perfect as a secret bank vault. So then she had quite simply tipped their Las Vegas diamonds into the tank and had intended discussing it with the others. But that same day, the friends had bought expensive exotic fish and aquarium plants and there had been such a fuss about it all that Martha had decided to wait until later to tell them what she had done. And, well, she had forgotten all about it. They had all had so much to do in connection with the restaurant that they had even forgotten to feed the fish. By mistake, Rake had also bought a piranha, which had quickly eaten up the other fish and when that, in turn, didn’t get enough food, it had also given up the ghost. And the aquarium, with the water getting all the cloudier, had been left standing in the cellar.
“The diamonds from the robbery in Las Vegas, yes.” She cleared her throat. “I found them in a box and thought that they ought to be kept somewhere safer. And an aquarium is a really excellent hiding place.”
“Next time you’ll probably hide the diamonds in cat litter and then empty it all into the trash can,” groaned Rake.
“If only we had a cat,” Anna-Greta cut in. “It’s about time we got one. Blomberg and me, we like cats and . . .” After mentioning his name she soon ran out of words, lowered her head and pulled out her hanky again. Martha noticed, gave her a quick pat on the cheek and returned to her idea.
“Well, anyway, what I’ve thought up is this: when Anders and Emma have taken over the running of the restaurant, we can continue giving away money to health-care staff as long as we still have some left. Our goody bags have worked well too, so they can carry on with that,” said Martha eagerly. “But as for us—we are aiming a little higher. Nothing less than five hundred million.”
“Five hundred million!” they all exclaimed in horror, but at the same time looked remarkably high-spirited.
“But Martha dear, what do you actually have in mind?” wondered Brains, upset.
“Um, just a little robbery for the sake of a good cause,” said Martha and popped another wafer into her mouth.
Then Anna-Greta joined in and described what she and Martha had thought about when they had seen Bielke’s expensive motor yachts on the Internet. Floating fortunes that were registered in the Cayman Islands and which their neighbor didn’t pay any taxes for.
“And so you do realize,” Anna-Greta concluded, “that it would be extremely difficult for him to report any of them as stolen.”
ANDERS STOOD WITH HIS HANDS BY HIS SIDES AND STARED AT the barge which lay and rocked slightly among some old alder trees in Huvudsta. The stern scraped against the jetty, while the bow had got entangled in some branches. On the deck lay the damaged, burnt sign with the words “SILVER PUNK RESTAURANT”—the barge had gone adrift and ended up on the other side of the lake. It hadn’t been difficult to find.
“Here we see the remains of Christina’s Vintage Village. This is how her vision ended up. What fantasies!” he said.
Emma didn’t answer, stubbed out her cigarette and went out onto the jetty. The gunwale was damaged, some burnt rope and fenders too, and a cupboard and box had burnt up in the bow. Otherwise everything was intact.
“What fantasies? Mother knows what she is talking about. Why not moor the barge here in Huvudsta instead and then open up again like she and the seniors want? Speed dating and the whole thing.”
“You make it sound so simple!”
“Right. And when the guests have done their dating on the boat they can go for a walk in the greenery here.” Emma threw out her hand toward the slope, the trees and the extensive lawns next to them. “And up there, you know,” she said, pointing at the old manor house, “that is Huvudsta Gård, which is where they conspired against King Gustav III at the end of the eighteenth century.”
“And what has that got to do with it?”
“Well, just think. Once upon a time the king’s murderers gathered together up there and planned the murder. Don’t you get it? We can expand the speed dating with historic walks on Sundays. It’ll be a success. I promise.”
A grunt could be heard from her brother, as so often when he was thinking, and Emma lay an encouraging hand on his shoulder. She felt sorry for him. He was a man in his prime, but unemployed. That could put a damper on anyone’s interest.
“Hell, I’m so tired of Mother and everything she thinks up. Now she and the others want us to take over again when things go wrong. But that restaurant project is dangerous. Just look, the mafia tried to torch the boat!” He pointed at the charred gunwale and fenders.
“But Mother has explained. That happened in Hornsberg. The League of Pensioners were inside the mafia’s area there. But here, here we can do what we want.”
“You think so, do you? We always have to step in and clean up after them.”
“But our children can go swimming here, and there are horses over in those stables. It couldn’t be better. If you’re going to get all grumpy, then I’ll find another partner,” said Emma and her green eyes narrowed. Her brother saw the warning signal.
“Oh what the hell, I’m over forty years old and it is still Mum who decides. Don’t you understand?”
“We can clean up the barge, get rid of the smoke smell and throw out that dreadful wild boar. Anders, get it together!”
“Oh, all right, if we take away the beaver and that wolf too, then—”
“Of course we can. I knew it. I can rely on you!”
Emma took a big stride toward him and gave her brother a hug. They had worked together before. It would work out OK this time too.
“Have you thought about something? Martha is bloody good at organizing. While we slave away with her restaurant she and the gang will travel down to Saint-Tropez. How can she manage to arrange it all like that? Next time it ought to be the opposite.”
“Anders, she isn’t going there to lie in the sun. I bet you anything that she has something fishy planned.”
Brother and sister looked out across the glittering water and thought about it for a while. Then Emma said: “Just as long as Mother doesn’t get into trouble. As if it wasn’t enough that we must worry about her because she is old. On top of that we have to worry about her ending up in prison!”