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Authors: Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg

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When they had all got dressed and fortified themselves with a cup of coffee, Martha pulled out the building plans.

‘The staffroom is diagonally behind the toilets beside the emergency exit at the end of the corridor. This ought to be a quick grab-and-run robbery,’ she said, tracking with her
finger slowly across the paper.

‘Grab and grab, and run and run. Have you ever seen running wheelchairs?’ muttered Rake, who had a weakness for sarcasms. On this particular evening they would not have their usual
Zimmer frames with them, but would instead carry out the robbery in electric-powered wheelchairs.

‘Well, they can go pretty fast, that’s for sure!’ said Brains smugly, with a mischievous look on his face. For a brief moment Martha was worried, because she had seen him
working on the wheelchairs with his tools all afternoon. But Brains would certainly have done his best. He had a great talent for technical things and so far he had not disappointed her. She
decided to trust him.

‘Don’t start arguing, boys, but just try to remember this,’ said Martha and she held up the building plans which were full of markings in various colours. A large X indicated
the staffroom and some smaller ones showed the escape routes. Some mumbling and throat-clearing could be heard while the five of them memorized the building plans a final time. Rake fidgeted with
his cravat around his neck.

‘Everybody says it’s impossible to commit crime in Las Vegas, but you, Martha, think we can fool the lot of them.’

‘Yes, it’s inspiring to try, isn’t it?’ answered Martha quickly. She knew, deep inside, that something could go wrong but she kept that insight to herself. Anything else
would have been destructive for the group’s confidence.

‘Now that we’ve made up our minds, we mustn’t start doubting ourselves,’ advised Christina as she pulled out her lipstick. Of course she was worried too, and didn’t
even dare to think about the fact that they might end up in an American prison. But since she was the one who had mostly been responsible for the idea, she wanted to go through with the robbery.
One day when she’d been on her way to the Ladies to touch up her make-up, she’d noticed that the door to the casino staffroom was ajar. She peeped in and saw that the betting chips were
kept there and there wasn’t a guard in sight.

Naturally, Christina told her friends about this. ‘If one could get at those chips . . . well, you understand my meaning.’ And of course they all did.

Christina didn’t need to say any more to kick-start the adventurous spirit of the League of Pensioners. The five friends saw the sparkle in each of the others’ eyes, and that was
that. Now it was time to act upon it!

‘Righto, next stop the casino,’ said Martha and put the building plans down on the table. ‘Good luck to everyone. We’ll rendezvous in the car park, OK?’

A murmur of agreement was heard from the others.

‘Oh, do you have the tickets?’ Martha asked. She wanted to make sure every part of their plan was accounted for.

‘Stop treating us like children,’ Rake responded churlishly.

Martha blushed. It was hard for her to keep track of everything and everyone whilst at the same time refrain from getting too bossy. But, after all, she had persuaded her friends to embark upon
their criminal path last year at Diamond House. She had masterminded their escape from the dreary care home and then organized their great art heist. So, as the ringleader of the group, it was up
to her to stop them running into difficulties.

Martha just couldn’t stop herself from adding, ‘Just one last thing. Don’t forget the balloons!’

‘Yes, indeed, or the CCTV system,’ mumbled Rake.

‘And don’t drink too much during the evening,’ chimed in Anna-Greta.

‘No more than will make us
naturally
confused,’ giggled Christina.

‘No more than usual, in other words,’ said Brains.

Martha picked up the building plans, got up and pushed them into the document shredder.

‘Let’s hope we remember everything now,’ Christina commented anxiously as she watched the scraps of shredded paper emerge from the other end of the machine. ‘What if we
forget something?’

‘We won’t,’ said Rake, squeezing her hand encouragingly.

‘And we can’t walk around holding a map while we commit a crime,’ Anna-Greta said as she pushed her 1950s spectacles up onto her forehead.

‘Indeed we can’t,’ Martha agreed, and she picked up the paper scraps and flushed them down the toilet.

3

The betting hall with its plush red carpets had no windows and there were no clocks to be seen. Those who entered the casino did not want to be reminded of the time; they were
there to enjoy themselves. The high, dark tables with their roulette wheels attracted hordes of people, most of them tourists. You couldn’t always tell who the compulsive gamblers were, but
they were there amidst them.

A muffled buzz of voices lay like a blanket over the room. Fat men in suits or Hawaiian shirts walked around between the tables, treading nervously on the red carpets. Ladies in long dresses and
glittering jewels leaned over the tables, pushing heaps of betting chips out and fidgeting with their manicured nails. In the background you could hear the distinctive noises from the slot
machines.

‘We’ll play with the highest stakes tonight of course,’ said Martha as she came close to colliding with Anna-Greta after accidently steering towards a table in her powered
wheelchair. Anne-Greta, who was as tall as a drainpipe and looked as though she had come straight from the film about Mary Poppins (only the umbrella was missing), veered out of her path at the
very last second. She gave Martha an irritated look.

‘Take it easy! We practised manoeuvring yesterday. And for goodness’ sake don’t crash into anybody – because then the security guards will get to know of it.’

‘No traffic accidents here,’ Martha started to say but abruptly turned silent. Across the room, she could see that the security guards were already emptying out of the staffroom:
their shift for the evening had begun. She sneaked a look at the doorway. They had all agreed that they must strike as early as possible in the evening, while there were still lots of betting chips
in the room, but as quickly as this . . . they had hardly had time to get to the roulette tables and blend in with the other gamblers.

‘What a weird lamp up there on the ceiling. I didn’t see that yesterday,’ said Rake who had parked by the long side of the roulette table. He looked up towards a shining
bowl-shaped object right above the table.

‘Pah, it’s only another camera,’ said Martha, trying to sound plucky. ‘Don’t worry about that. They must have a whole wall of TV screens in the security room, and
one more doesn’t make any difference. They’re probably looking at us this very minute.’

Rake pulled out his steel comb and tidied his parting. It was a reflex reaction. He always wanted to look smart and he enjoyed other people admiring him. His friends claimed that he deliberately
filled his pockets with coins when he went through security checks at airports – it was just like Rake to draw attention to himself and they were convinced that he was hoping for a body
search by one of the female guards. Rake slipped the comb back in his pocket, straightened his fringe and put his straw hat on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was necessary this particular
evening.

‘Don’t bother about the cameras. We’ll be out through the doors before the guards have time to react,’ Martha went on cheerfully. She tried to sound confident, but her
heart was pounding. She moistened her lips, nodded to the others and, for the sake of appearances, pushed a few chips onto the roulette table. ‘We mustn’t forget to place some bets, you
hear!’

Martha always wanted to win, but this evening they had decided to lose as much as they possibly could. They didn’t want to attract the attention of the guards. The croupier spun the wheel
and then spun the ball in the other direction. Out of habit, Martha bet on a colour. Today it would be black. Then she remembered that she shouldn’t double her bets this evening; they had
agreed that they wanted to lose, so she quickly pushed a big heap of chips on the double zero. That never came up.

‘No more bets!’ said the croupier and looked at all the players. He eyed Martha a bit longer than the others, as if he suspected her of something, but then he spun the ball, which
whirled around before bouncing off the sides a few times and then falling down. On the double zero.

‘Oops!’ said Christina and pushed her sun hat higher up on her head. A win, that wasn’t part of the plan. Martha looked up at the ceiling again. The new camera seemed to have
zoned in on their table. Best to lose it all now, she thought, so she left all the chips on the double zero again. That very same moment she saw the door to the staffroom being opened as one of the
guards went in there. Martha moved her hand to the wheelchair control joystick.

‘Brains, it’s time!’ she hissed but she wasn’t able to say any more before the door closed again. That same moment the ball fell onto the numbers and landed on the double
zero again.

‘What in the name of heaven . . . I’ve never seen anything like it!’ she stuttered and looked on with a daft expression as the croupier pushed a pile of chips across to her.
Some security guards with earphones approached the table, stopped and stood right behind them. I
must
lose now, Martha thought, and bet all her chips on black.

‘Please, please, let me lose now!’ she said silently to herself. And then, just then, the door to the staffroom opened again at the same time the ball fell down onto a black number.
One of the security guards pulled out his mobile phone.

‘What the!’ Martha gasped.

‘Have you seen them? That gang of old people are here again,’ said Stewart, a middle-aged supervisor, as he glanced up at the nearest TV screen. ‘Wow,
they’re winning a lot there, first the double zero and now black. Those idiots will bankrupt us. I bet you there’s something fishy going on.’

The security room above the casino looked like a TV shop with all the televisions turned on at the same time. All round the walls two rows of screens flickered with images from different rooms
and tables. In the middle was a large elliptical table where security staff sat. Now and then they zoomed in on somebody who looked suspicious.

‘Just because they’re having a run of good luck you think they’re up to no good. Take it easy. Soon they’ll lose it all again,’ answered his colleague, who was
called Bush. He had curly hair like the former president and was just as cocky. The only difference was that he hadn’t started a war.

‘Good luck? You’ve said that every day and you’ve always been wrong. No, let’s grab them!’ Stewart slapped his palm hard on the table so that his mobile phone did a
hop.

‘Take it easy. Let them carry on a while; this is good entertainment.’

‘But the balloons on the wheelchairs, what about those? It isn’t Thanksgiving yet, damn it. And just look at those sun hats. They must be crazy, the lot of them.’

‘This is amusing! And have you seen, they’ve got powered wheelchairs today. What if they crash into something?’

‘I didn’t bloody well take this security job to go chasing old people in wheelchairs. No, let’s throw them out. I’ve had enough. We’ll check that guy over by the
Black Jack table too. A card pro. He’s got sunglasses on and probably has a transmitter there.’

‘A suspect simply because he hasn’t won several days in a row? No, hold your horses, Stewart.’ His colleague yawned. ‘By the way, the old lot are moving across to the
bar. Just look at that, their baskets are full of betting chips. I hope they spend it all on something fun.’

Stewart leaned towards the TV screen and zoomed in on them.

‘No, they aren’t going to the bar. They’re on their way to the toilets.’

‘I’m not bloody well chasing them there!’

‘But five people wouldn’t go to the toilets at the same time. I’m telling the security guards.’ Stewart picked up his mobile and dialled the number.

For a moment Martha stared at the pile of betting chips that the croupier had placed in front of her, then she swept them all into her basket. She glanced again at the staff
entrance. The guard had been hovering at the door and now looked as though he might be exiting the staffroom. They couldn’t wait any longer. She put on her sun hat and poked Brains in the
ribs.

‘Action!’ she whispered and raised her hand as a sign to the others. Christina, Anna-Greta and Rake put on their sun hats too and followed after her.

Brains steered his Flexmobil Classic wheelchair in the direction of the toilets, and, just as he passed the staffroom door, he had a bad coughing attack. When the guard was on his way out,
Brains leaned forward and coughed out his false teeth. The security guard paid scant attention to the bent-over old man, and strode off towards the gambling hall with a security bag in his hand.
Brains looked up with a grin and made a thumbs-up sign to the others. He had been spot on target. His loose teeth lay on the threshold and the door had not closed properly.

‘I must just powder my nose!’ announced Christina loudly, her sun hat pulled low over her head. She pretended to drive off towards the toilets but just outside the staffroom she made
it look as if the powered wheelchair had gone wrong. Determinedly, she pushed the joystick back and forth so that the chair twirled round a few times while Brains cautiously held the door to the
room open. ‘The balloons!’ Martha indicated with hand signals, and when Brains released them they elegantly hovered up by the ceiling. Christina then manoeuvred her chair over the
threshold and backed into the room at full speed closely followed by Rake and Anna-Greta.

As long as they cover the camera lenses properly, Martha thought, but said instead: ‘OK, go, go, go!’ And she also sped into the room. Finally, Brains looked around, adjusted his sun
hat and followed the others.

Once they were all in the staffroom with the door pulled shut behind them, Christina quickly yanked out the cushions from the seats of the wheelchairs, which she had filled with cash boxes
similar to those used to keep the betting chips in. It hadn’t been an easy task for Brains to transform the bag-in-boxes into false cash boxes but foil and silver paint had done the trick,
though unfortunately they had managed to spill some wine across the foil whilst Brains was making them. Christina sniffed at the mock cash boxes. They still smelt of wine, but it was too late to do
anything about that now. Besides, the wine had been good so they had all had such a nice evening. Brains and Martha had already made their way along a corridor to open the storeroom, where the
casino kept its aluminium cases with cash boxes full of betting chips.

BOOK: The Little Old Lady Who Struck Lucky Again!
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