A few hours later they all took the elevator and went down to the spa together. Martha kept patting the pockets of the white bathrobe, where she was keeping the bags of powder. She looked at Brains out of the corner of her eye. He had put one of the hotel towels on top of everything else in his bag so that the tools were hidden. He looked so exhilarated. Like a little child who was about to do some mischief. And truth be told, that’s exactly how Martha felt too.
For the sake of appearances, they showered and spent some time in the swimming pool. They splashed around while they waited for the number of people using the pool to increase. Anna-Greta kept on encouraging the others to be patient.
‘It could mean another piece of jewellery,’ she insisted as soon as anyone suggested they should get going. In the end, Brains said he couldn’t wait another minute, then he leaned against Martha and whispered: ‘Have you got the bags?’
She nodded.
‘When the lights flicker, get the powder out and pour it into the steam nozzle. Do it quickly so that nobody notices.’
‘I have seen the films, you know!’ Martha replied.
Brains went off towards the corridor by reception that lead to the fuse box, while Martha went along with the others to the steam room. The henbane would make the spa guests lethargic, but before they got too drowsy Martha would pour the cannabis into the nozzle. Then Christina and Anna-Greta would stagger out of the sauna and pretend to faint, while Martha would hurry to fetch the receptionist for help. As soon as the receptionist had left the counter, Brains would cut the lighting for the entire spa, and he and Rake would break the lock on the cupboard behind reception and empty it of the valuables. Brains had fitted a row of LED lights into his slippers so that he and Rake could see. Martha was a bit worried because she feared that this might give them away, but he assured her it would be all right. The slipper lights would only be used in case of an emergency and he was sure that, in the general confusion, nobody would notice where the light was coming from. Martha still thought she was right and that Brains didn’t realize the danger of the lights because he was a man and had little imagination. But with age she had learned that sometimes it was simpler just to give in.
When they entered the steam room they were immediately enveloped by a warm cloud and they could hardly see anything. Christina and Anna-Greta sat down on the benches while Martha looked around as best she could in the mist. It seemed as if at least twenty people were in the steam room. She counted a few elderly gentlemen, several ladies and a middle-aged couple, all seated on the two half-moon-shaped benches that faced each other. Martha knew that she had to be careful of those who were sitting closest to her. She could feel the plastic bags chafing inside her swimsuit and began to wish that she wasn’t doing this. It would have been better if Rake had taken care of this part of the plan, but he had said that nowadays he only occupied himself with living plants. Dried leaves weren’t his concern. She straightened her back. Christina would just have to do the job—and show him how it was done. Martha sat down at the end of one of the benches, as close to the door as possible so that she would be near to the fresh air outside, and put the birch twigs down next to her. Her hand felt its way to her swimsuit neckline. With the plastic bags in her bosom, she looked like she had in her prime. She sighed; it was so steamy in the room that nobody would be able to admire her figure anyway.
‘How long are we going to sit here for?’ Christina whispered.
‘Not long at all,’ Martha reassured her. ‘I’ll tell you when it’s time.’
‘One certainly wouldn’t want to stay in here for too long,’ Anna-Greta added and put her hand over her mouth. ‘There’s far too much steam.’
The mist hid the facial expressions of the people sitting there, and Martha grew worried. It would be difficult to judge their reactions. She had hardly had a chance to brood over this before the lights flickered. Brains had cut the power off. This was it! Martha’s hand felt for the bags inside her bathing suit. Where were they? At the same moment, she realized that she didn’t have her glasses with her. She, who had preached about how important the little details were. Oh well, the bag of cannabis was bigger and that was all she really needed to know. The man sitting opposite her was beginning to take an interest in her cleavage search.
‘I thought I had three with me when I left home,’ she joked.
The man gaped at her.
‘Well, two perhaps?’ she suggested.
Martha could hear the embarrassed clearing of someone’s throat and somebody else coughing nervously in the mist. Old ladies shouldn’t joke about such things, is that what they were thinking? This made Martha angry; the elderly could have a bit of fun too.
The steam became even more intense and several of the guests covered their faces with their hands. It was now really hot and sticky, and two people got up and left. Martha couldn’t delay any longer. She located the bags, carefully pulled out the one with the henbane powder and opened it. Now she only had to take a few steps to the black pillar and pour all the powder into the nozzle. But she couldn’t feel anything inside the bag. Martha withdrew her fingers. She had put the powder there herself. Confused, she dug her fingers back into the bag and found a soggy mess right at the bottom. Oh, heavens above! The pouch had a hole in it! In her mind’s eye she imagined how all those who had been swimming in the pool would have inhaled the henbane and fallen asleep. But then a moment later she recognized a man she had almost collided with in the pool and she calmed down. Most of the henbane was probably still in the bag and had just got wet. Did that mean it had lost its effectiveness, or would she start hallucinating herself from the amount that had escaped? Martha didn’t know. The best thing now would be to act quickly and then rush out to the shower. But what if there was so little henbane left that nobody reacted? She dipped into her cleavage again and took out the bag with the cannabis. Thank God that was okay. Rake had told her to put just a small amount of the cannabis in the nozzle, but you had to adapt to the circumstances and Martha decided to use the whole amount. She tottered over to the pillar, and after the nozzle had puffed out a hot cloud of steam she threw in the henbane and the cannabis and covered it all with the birch twigs. Then she sat at the very end of the bench, as close to the door as she could, and waited.