“Yes, Brains, darling! You know that you are the man in my life. But if we don’t hand out our bank robbery money now, then whole hospital wards will have to close. Nurses and other health-care staff must get paid more. It is high time to create a bonus for them.”
“So nurses are more important than our wedding?” Brains sniffled.
“No, not at all, my dear,” said Martha somewhat absently thinking about how they could administer a bonus and at the same time realize a Vintage Village. Besides, they must soon retrieve the millions they had hidden in a drainpipe at the Grand Hotel after a previous robbery. There was simply no time for a wedding! She didn’t dare look Brains in the eye and for a long time she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt before she met his gaze. “There is so much going on now. And it would of course be really annoying if our millions in that drainpipe start rotting away before we can get at them.”
“So a drainpipe is more important than our relationship?”
“But goodness me, my love. I didn’t mean that at all. Just that we ought to retrieve that money. The banknotes are stuffed inside Anna-Greta’s tights and they won’t last forever,” said Martha, leaning forward to give him a hug.
“So old tights are more important than—well, that’s just—!” He got up quickly, gave the computer a kick and left the room slamming the door behind him.
5
ANNA-GRETA SWEPT ALONG IN HER FERRARI WITH A CIGARILLO in her hand. The wind caught up her gray hair which swirled around like streamers behind her neck. “Here comes Pippi Longstocking, ladida, ladida,” she sang out loud while the shops on Kungsgatan swished by. She tried to puff on her cigarillo but the smoke irritated her throat and she started coughing. Ugh, it wasn’t easy to smoke when you had the roof down. She stubbed out the cigarillo in the ashtray and concentrated on driving instead.
Martha had said that you must lie low after a crime, but you could still indulge in a Ferrari, Anna-Greta thought. Her whole life she had nourished a dream of owning a luxury car like this, and now finally she had achieved it. To be on the safe side, she had bought it secondhand on the Internet and not bothered to send in the papers to the vehicle registry so for a few months she could drive around incognito on the country’s roads. After that she would have to get rid of it, but at least she would have had a little fun. At her age it was high time to realize her dreams, and besides, she needed the vehicle for her image. She was on her way to see a shady lawyer with a bad reputation who had recently been expelled from the Swedish Bar Association. She had googled and discreetly asked around about Nils Hovberg, and came to the conclusion that he would suit them just right. He had his legal office in the upscale city district of Östermalm and among all the camel-hair ulster coats and minks in this part of Stockholm, there were shady characters (like her), semi-fishy individuals, who wanted to get money out of the country. She glanced at the sports bag on the passenger seat. Bribes, a hell of a lot of bribes. It ought to suffice. This time at any rate . . .
SHE HAD DISCOVERED THAT HOVBERG SPECIALIZED IN PANAMA and the West Indies, and he had been recommended by obscure sources on shady websites like Flash Net. Besides, he had the best homepage. She had chosen his legal office since the description seemed to be exactly what they were looking for. Above all, she had been enthused by reading:
We are Sweden’s most client-friendly legal bureau for international affairs. We want to invest time and resources in your company so that you will achieve your most ambitious goals. Our legal staff specialize in money transfers to foreign destinations and our advisory service has a global reach suited to your organization.
Anna-Greta pushed the ashtray with her cigarillo in under the dashboard, and hummed. There was one particular detail on the homepage that had made her decide. It was:
We have local knowledge of criminal regimes and business practices in the parts of the world you choose to do your business. We can thus ensure that your investments are safe.
Oh, how she loved the Internet! That really did sound very promising. She parked her car on Grev Turegatan and reached out for her new walking stick, one that Martha had bought for her. You could attach a water bottle to it and it even had a little bell which was useful if you wanted people to get out of your way. She was already very fond of this walking stick even though she still missed the old one—which Brains was trying to repair. Then she climbed arduously out of the car (which was dreadfully low) and lifted out her newly purchased sports bag on wheels. She stood on the pavement for a few moments and recovered her breath; after filling her lungs with some deep inhalations she felt ready to go to the office on Grev Turegatan 93. It was important that she presented her business as seriously as possible.
After she was shown in by a secretary, she found herself sitting in an elegant designer armchair in front of a large oak table. Behind the desk sat a little man with a round face and small hands. He stood up when she entered, and greeted her with a little bow and a firm handshake.
“Well now, madam, how can I help you?” he asked as he glanced at the sports bag.
“My husband,” said Anna-Greta as she pulled out her lace handkerchief. “He has just passed away and now I want to do something charitable with the money he has left.”
“Ah, I see, that is a kind thought . . . do you have the papers?”
Anna-Greta pulled out a forged identity card, her fictive husband’s death certificate and a gold ring with the names Oskar and Anna-Greta engraved on it. It looked very fancy. Brains had aged the ring with ash and toothpaste and darkened it with hydrogen sulphide or whatever the chemical he used was called. The ring looked at least fifty years old. “Though I don’t know whether you need the ring too. I would like to retain that as a keepsake,” said Anna-Greta, sniffling a little for the sake of appearances and then loudly blowing her nose on the handkerchief.
“No, no. I won’t need that. Well, then, so what help do you want from me?”
And then Anna-Greta started to tell him about her dear departed husband whose great dream in life had been to open a care home for the old and needy. But to avoid all the money disappearing in inheritance tax, he had wanted her to start a health-care company in the Caribbean with a subsidiary company in Stockholm. By doing that, he had worked out that they would pay less tax and then she could use more money for the good cause. The lawyer looked up and ran his fingers over his bushy eyebrows.
“And how much money are we talking about here?”
“Well, Oskar saved money all his life. And besides, he was very stingy and didn’t indulge in any extravagances for himself—or for me, unfortunately. And we didn’t have any children either, so the treasure chest got quite full. Then he inherited from his mother and he never spent that money because he didn’t trust banks. When he lay on his deathbed, he told me to sell his shares and antiquities, everything in the house and a farm in Vetlanda. So you can imagine that I’ve got a whole lot of cash.”
“And are we talking about millions here?”
“Fifteen.” Anna-Greta thought that was a suitable sum, because she didn’t want to name the exact amount that was missing from Nordea bank.
“Fifteen million,” said the lawyer. “But the tax authorities won’t let you transfer that abroad.”
“No, but I have been led to understand that you are especially skilled at arranging such matters,” said Anna-Greta and winked.
“Yes, indeed, I do realize that is why you are here.”
The lawyer smiled, pressed a few keys on his computer keyboard and swung the screen toward her so that she could see. Then he talked a long time, pointed at various diagrams and suggested one ingenious solution after the other. When they had discussed this for a while, Anna-Greta lifted up the sports bag and put it on the desk.
“This is a small advance for your services. I’m sure we can come to an agreement. Now I need your help to register a company. Why not start a health-care company like my husband said?” She leaned her head to one side and licked her lips seductively like sh
e had seen sensual ladies do in films.
“Well, now, that’s um . . .” said the lawyer and he felt the weight of the sports bag.
“Just a little sum for your petty cash.” Anna-Greta smiled. “Please help me; my husband would have been so happy.” She again pulled out her lace handkerchief and started to cry. The tears ran now, and only with considerable effort did she manage to say: “You don’t know what it is like to lose a life partner. We were inseparable for fifty-three years. Oskar was such a good man and I would like to fulfil his last wishes. A health-care company in the West Indies and then a little subsidiary company here in Stockholm, that’s all.”
“Yes, yes, I understand,” said Mr. Hovberg, obviously embarrassed by Anna-Greta’s tears. “I assure you, we can arrange all this, just you see.”
“And then a final request, perhaps the most important of all. Half of the money shall be donated to the City Mission. I want them to get a little every month.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Half of fifteen million is seven and a half, and you can divide that up into monthly installments of a suitable amount. Well, then, thank you very much,” she concluded, tucking her lace handkerchief back into her bag and getting up. Then she left without taking the sports bag with her. It contained one million kronor in used notes. They had been new, but Brains had given them a special antique treatment.
6
THE LEAGUE OF PENSIONERS SAT IN THE KITCHEN IN THEIR OLD mansion drinking herbal tea. Christina had insisted that they should drink tea instead of coffee because she had made her very own blend. It sharpened one’s senses and was otherwise beneficial for health. The others nodded amicably and put up with it.
The kitchen was fairly large. They hadn’t yet had time to decorate it according to their own taste, but it would have to do for the time being. The walls were painted in a warm white color with light-blue paneling around the decoratively paneled doors and the two mullioned windows. The cupboards were narrow and high with new light fixtures and on the kitchen bench next to the sink was a coffee maker and a centrifugal juicer. The focal point of the room was a heavy mahogany table with white armchairs and on the floor a worn, patterned carpet which didn’t fit in with all the rest. But since it had come from Brains’s home in Sundbyberg, nobody said anything but just let it stay.
Martha and her friends had set the table with hot scones and marmalade and they were sipping the tea from delicate cups in light-blue Gustavsberg china while they waited to hear Anna-Greta’s report from the visit to the lawyer. She had implied that she had a lot to tell them. She finished her scones, brushed the crumbs from her lace blouse and looked around her with a smile. Without thinking about it, she picked up a cigarillo and put it in her mouth.
“Now we’re rolling, and soon we’ll be able to use the money from Nordea,” she proudly announced. The cigarillo hung from the corner of her mouth and jolly wrinkles of laughter were clearly visible across all of her face. “You should have seen Hovberg’s expression when I gave him the sports bag with all the banknotes. Now I’ve got him truly hooked.”
“Rolling? What do you mean?” asked Christina.
“A whole bag of money to bribe him?” Brains looked surprised.
“Yes, Mr. Hovberg is our investment in the future.” Anna-Greta fumbled in her bag to find her cigarette lighter and was just about to use it when she remembered that her friends had prohibited her from smoking. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” She coughed and the others gave her worrying looks.
“You haven’t started smoking again, have you? Smoking kills!” said Martha.
“Not at all, it was just for my image at the lawyer’s. How else can an elderly lady gain respect?”
“Exactly.” Rake nodded.
“Hovberg is helping us to start a company. Soon fifteen million will land in the West Indies and when we get our Visa card then we can withdraw cash here in Stockholm. He knows exactly how to take advantage of laws and regulations between different countries. And a bribe of a million kronor isn’t very much in that context.”
“A million? When you can buy a company on the Internet for twenty thousand kronor,” said Rake.
“But I have contracted the services of a lawyer who will help us in the long term,” Anna-Greta retorted, blushing slightly. “He will take care of all our business here in Sweden and the Caribbean, and he is bound by professional secrecy.”
“What if we lose all our money?” exclaimed Christina, feeling extremely confused.
“Don’t worry,” said Martha nodding encouragingly toward her friend. “I believe in Anna-Greta, she knows what she is doing.”
“Heavens above, I really hope so. Soon fifteen million will shoot off into cyberspace just like that!” sighed Brains with a resigned gesture toward the ceiling. “I simply don’t get it. How can money we sucked out of a bank vault in Kungsholmen end up in the West Indies?”
“Mr. Hovberg is an expert. Over there in the Caribbean they don’t care how the money has been earned. They are just happy to have real money in their bank accounts,” Anna-Greta went on. “He’s going to start a fictive health-care company on the Cayman Islands.”
“Yes, that’s the trick. Watertight. Nobody can poke their noses in there,” said Rake.
“We’ll pay out money from that company to home care and health care, without anybody suspecting anything. And besides, he promised to look after the monthly payments to the City Mission. And if he doesn’t behave himself, I shall report him immediately. I’ve got evidence!” Anna-Greta fished out her cell and held it up. Then she clicked until the pictures appeared. On her way out of the lawyer’s office she had managed to take photos of him as he picked some notes out of the sports bag and stuffed them in his pockets.
“Now listen to me, that wasn’t a nice thing to do, Anna-Greta,” Brains pointed out.
“You find the biggest fish in the calmest waters,” said Anna-Greta in delight and reached out for a champagne glass. Her hand fumbled in thin air until she saw the teacup. “Oh, of course, we’re drinking herbal tea, aren’t we!” She poured a cup and looked at the yellowish liquid for a long time. “If we drink a whole cup of this, can we then have a glass of champagne as a reward?” she added, and then erupted into such a neighing that the others had to calm her down.
Martha had been sitting quietly a long time listening to Anna-Greta. The business of transferring money from one account to another in the far-off Caribbean sounded dull. They ought to have something to do so that they didn’t get restless and totally bored—all of them. It would be best, of course, if they could combine the charity work with opening a restaurant. As a first step in the project to realizing the Vintage Village. Yes, it was high time they got their teeth into something. Before they all relaxed and became apathetic.
7
THE WATER GLIMMERED IN SVEAVIKEN BAY AND DJURSHOLM residents were taking a peaceful Sunday walk along Strandvägen. But not the League of Pensioners. Martha had taken her friends on a power walk with poles and they were proceeding at quite a pace. On account of Christina’s yoga sessions, she didn’t arrange so many gymnastics lessons but instead forced the gang out on even more Nordic walking outings.
“How are you getting along?” she called out to the others who had lagged behind a little. “Speed up a little! This is good for the heart and lungs. And besides, it uses almost twice as much energy.”
“But weren’t we supposed to get more energy?” said a panting Rake, who found it hard to keep up. “And anyway it’s Sunday. You should respect the day of rest.”
“My dear, you can do that later,” Martha retorted and raised her voice. “And remember that Nordic walking is much gentler on your knees and back than running.”
“Martha, I’ve never had the slightest intention of jogging, not me,” snorted Rake.
“Another thing is that you use more muscles. Above all it’s the muscles in your legs, stomach, back, arms and chest that get to work.”
“If only you could r
estrict yourself to just one group of muscles. Now we’ll get muscle soreness in every part of our bodies,” Rake groaned.
“That’s only because you are not fit.”
“Me, not fit!!” he exploded.
Anna-Greta got up closer to Martha and put a hand on her shoulder. “Martha dear, you really ought to ease up a bit. Men don’t like being ordered around.”
Martha bit her lip. “No, that’s true, perhaps you’re right,” she mumbled and continued in a lower voice. “The words just slip out. I ought to think first, before I say anything.”
“Well, that applies to us all.” Anna-Greta smiled.
“Now listen, I think we’ve had enough exercise now. What about a bite to eat?” Christina butted in, and leaned on her poles. “You have to eat properly too. I wonder whether they have health foods at Djursholm Inn?”
“Oh yes, it’s time to eat,” Brains called out. “Why not roast pork and potatoes and some bread with a thick layer of butter and bacon. Then we can add something with yummy mayonnaise oozing with oil. And top it all with a plate of cream cakes, don’t you think, Christina? Then we can have a nap on the sofa and digest the food.” He looked at Martha out of the corner of his eye to see how she reacted. But his beloved hadn’t heard, or perhaps was pretending not to have heard. She didn’t react at all.
“But speaking of restaurants,” said Martha, “I’m glad you brought that up. I’m thinking of that Vintage Village where there would be nice things for the elderly to do. My dream is of a complete Pleasure Village with a spa, theaters, hairdresser’s, greenhouses, boules pitches and places to eat for us seniors.”
“Pleasure Village? That sounds great! How many houses of pleasure must there be to make up a whole Pleasure Village?” Rake wondered, and winked at Brains. Martha lost the thread and they all burst out laughing.
The Little Old Lady Behaving Badly Page 5
