The Little Old Lady Who Broke All the Rules by Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg Page A

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 tobe 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