When the five old friends went down for a morning swim, they discovered that the entire area had been cordoned off. Police officers were examining the area and talking quietly to each other.
‘I think we should use the bathtub in the suite instead,’ said Christina, doing an about-turn.
‘Hmm, I believe I left my flip-flops up in the room,’ Anna-Greta added and followed her. The two women and Rake retreated to the elevator, while Martha and Brains hung about for a bit and watched the proceedings. Martha studied how the police officers worked and she noticed that they all had gloves on. She had read about DNA and fingerprints. That was very important, and even a little thumbprint could give away major villains. She must bear that in mind in future.
After yet another continental breakfast up in the Princess Lilian suite, the League of Pensioners gathered for the day’s meeting. As they all settled themselves onto the sofas, Martha took the last bite of the fourth chocolate wafer she had eaten that day. She considered taking yet another, but she didn’t want to be a bad example for the others and restrained herself. To her horror, in just a couple of days she had become used to the high standards at the hotel—not to mention the Danish pastries on the breakfast table—and worried about how she and her friends would acclimatize to life in prison. But she didn’t utter a word about this to the others. It could destroy their criminal careers before they had even begun.
Brains was the first to speak.
‘Did anybody listen to the radio this morning?’ he asked. ‘Did they mention missing old people or anything like that?’
‘Nobody misses old people! Just think of those descriptions in the old Icelandic sagas where people over a certain age were simply pushed over cliffs!’ said Christina, who was rather gloomy the day after their first robbery.
‘Now we mustn’t get all depressed about the meagre loot yesterday. Instead we should be pleased that we were successful. We got away! See it as a trial run,’ said Martha.
‘Perhaps they aren’t even on to us yet, and—who knows—maybe the hotel will want to pretend that there hasn’t been a robbery here at all. They’ll want to protect their image—isn’t that what they call it?’ said Brains.
‘But it’s weird that Nurse Barbara hasn’t sounded the alarm,’ said Christina, almost a bit offended by the fact that nobody had missed them.
‘I bet she’s gone off with Director Mattson. They’ll be cavorting in bed and won’t have noticed that we’ve gone,’ said Rake.
‘Now, now, must you always—’ Anna-Greta started, frowning at him.
‘Stop it,’ Martha interrupted them. ‘We are here to discuss our next move—which won’t hurt anybody but will give us a lot of money for the Robbery Fund. I have a suggestion. A kidnapping somewhere close to here.’
They all gasped, and Rake looked really aghast. He had been staring out the window and immediately said, ‘The palace? Have you gone completely bonkers?’
‘No, no, don’t be silly! That would get us into far too much trouble. No, just an innocent little kidnapping which would give us one or two years in one of the plushest prisons. That will give us the chance to see what it is really like in the prisons. Perhaps they aren’t quite what they are made out to be, like our retirement home was. If it isn’t as nice as we expect, then we can always return to Diamond House.’
‘Never!’ they exclaimed with one voice.
‘We’d choose a better retirement home, of course. We’d be able to afford it.’
‘That would have to be a major robbery,’ said Anna-Greta, who suddenly remembered the bill she used to pay every month for Diamond House. ‘If we are going to get something really good for our money, that is.’
This resulted in a discussion about various types of retirement accommodation and what you actually got for your pension. Some of them suggested politicians should be forced to experience living in the retirement homes which were run on a budget, but that was seen as too severe a punishment. Besides, said Brains, the elected representatives would then have to be locked in their rooms after eight in the evening and then they wouldn’t be able to take part in the discussion programs on TV.
‘We must concentrate!’ Martha declared in an attempt to bring them to order. ‘I believe I have come up with the perfect crime.’
An expectant silence ensued and even Rake paid attention.
‘Only about fifty metres from here is the National Museum. They’ve got more than ten thousand paintings there, including many old masterpieces, and you know what I think?’ She looked around triumphantly. ‘It stands to reason that they can’t all be wired up with alarms. If we steal a painting to the value of three or four million, that ought to earn us two or three years in prison.’
Nobody applauded, but Martha could see the interest in their eyes.
‘And how do you intend for us to go about doing this?’ Brains wondered.
‘Nothing complicated. We just have to create a distraction, then one of us takes down a painting or two and we hurry out. Much the same as what we practised at the spa reception,’ explained Martha.
‘We can’t exactly run,’ Anna-Greta reminded them.
‘That’s precisely why we must distract the guards.’
‘We can streak and run naked through the exhibit halls,’ Rake suggested.
‘You need to be younger for that, you dirty old man,’ Anna-Greta snorted.
‘Don’t say that. At our age, we would arouse even more attention,’ Christina remarked. ‘But I certainly have no intention whatsoever of running naked through the museum.’
Martha was getting annoyed with such ridiculous suggestions and tried to move the conversation along. ‘I was thinking of a different sort of distraction …’
‘Now hold on. This isn’t as simple as you think. What do we do about the surveillance cameras, for example?’ Brains queried.
‘We cover them up. Then we take the paintings down and walk out, calm and cool. We just pretend that we are not the thieves,’ said Martha.
‘Pretend that we are not the thieves? Now you must explain what you mean,’ said Rake, who was beginning to get impatient.
‘We put the paintings in the basket of my walker and then I simply put my coat over them.’
‘Your coat over a huge old masterpiece while the alarm is ringing?’ Rake said, rolling his eyes.
‘Don’t be so negative,’ Martha hissed.
‘But if somebody asks what we are doing, what do we say?’ Christina asked.
‘You don’t have to answer everything,’ was Martha’s retort.
‘How do we know which paintings are connected to an alarm?’ Brains asked, and immediately started to think about various possibilities to short-circuit the alarm system.
‘I should think Rembrandt and Van Gogh are,’ Martha explained, ‘and probably Paul Gauguin. But perhaps Carl Larsson won’t be and he sells for high prices at Bukowskis.’
‘Ahah, the auctioneers,’ said Anna-Greta knowingly. ‘So first we are going to steal expensive paintings and then try to sell them at Bukowskis? I don’t think that will work. People will recognize them as stolen artwork.’
‘That’s why I have thought of something else,’ said Martha. ‘We are not going to just steal paintings like your average simple thief. We are going to kidnap them. Nothing will be destroyed, nobody is going to be robbed in person, and nobody will be sorry. The owner—in this case the museum—only needs to pay a few million to us and then they’ll get the paintings back.’
A little ‘Ooooh’ went round the table and even Rake had to admit that Martha had thought this through properly.
‘A few million—but Martha, dear, you make it all sound so simple,’ said Anna-Greta. ‘The National Museum does not have much money.’
‘Of course it does! There are the donations, for a start. They can take the money from the Friends of the National Museum. They will cough up. These paintings at the museum are national treasures.’
‘Well, I like the idea,’ Christina piped up, ‘but how would we actually go about the kidnapping?’ She looked expectantly at the others. She had started to acquire a taste for adventure, and she had had so much fun robbing the spa that she was keen to commit new crimes.
‘I propose that we draw a diagram of where the best paintings are, where the alarms and the security cameras are, and then we decide how to arrange the robbery,’ Martha explained. ‘We really should check out the getaway routes too. Brains, have you got a notepad?’
Rake swallowed a few times as if to protest but couldn’t think of anything to say. He realized that they couldn’t stay at the hotel indefinitely, and he, too, wanted to swap the retirement home for a good prison.
‘You lot, I think we should watch a film this evening and have a nice time. Then we will be in good shape tomorrow.’
At first Martha intended to protest, but she realized that it was important that everybody be in a good mood. A bit of relaxation wouldn’t do any harm. So she fetched some nuts and dark chocolate and ordered two films: Murder on the Orient Express and The Ladykillers.
‘We need some inspiration,’ she said, but Christina looked so terrified that Martha felt obliged to explain.
‘Christina, dear,’ she consoled her, ‘it isn’t the murders but the planning which is going to inspire us.’
The next day, Martha and Brains strolled around amongst the public in the exhibit halls at the National Museum. The building was almost next door to the hotel. They tried to give the impression of being very interested in art, but while they examined the paintings Brains was diligently writing away in his notepad.
‘I’ve got a feeling that the guards are watching us,’ Martha said after a while, glancing over her shoulder.
‘Do you think so? If they ask anything, just say we are artists.’
‘As if that would explain everything.’
‘It explains a lot.’ Brains smiled.
Martha was concerned. This looked as if it was going to be more difficult than she had expected. They had discovered cameras and alarms everywhere and in every room there was a flashing red lamp. Not only that, but security guards seemed to materialize when you least expected it. The new crime would demand meticulous planning.
While she wandered around the exhibit halls, she found herself trying to plan the ‘perfect coup’—but at the same time making sure they were caught. How else would they end up in prison? It was, however, so pleasant at the Grand Hotel that none of them had any desire to leave. At any rate, not just yet. She recalled the old proverbial phrases about wealth making you blind, and how the more you had the more you wanted. Had their transformation come about so quickly?
Brains wrote down his observations in his notepad and they moved on to the next exhibit hall. The ceilings were very high and Martha wondered why, since you could hardly hang paintings up there. Indeed, she had pondered so many things and walked around so much that in the end she needed to sit down on a bench and rest. She hadn’t just studied the paintings from the front, but had also checked the alarm connections at the sides. As she sat there, she became more and more dejected. There were alarms everywhere, and then there were all those guards with their mobile phones and walkie-talkies. If they saw anything suspicious they would call the police immediately. But there was what they called the ‘human factor’, of course. The security guards patrolled here day after day. Sooner or later they must surely lose concentration. And they must have coffee breaks just like everybody else.
‘I think we can pull this off,’ Brains said quietly. ‘We can deal with the guards too.’
‘You think so?’ Martha said hopefully. ‘That’s what’s so wonderful about you, you are always so positive.’
Brains squeezed her hand gently and her heart fluttered.
‘But you are the one who inspires me, Martha dear, I promise you. We’ll fix this together. I’ve got an idea. Come and have a look.’
He stood up and helped Martha to her feet, and together they steered towards the hall with the temporary exhibits. Perhaps the security wasn’t as good in there.