Sweet Old Couple Moves Out — Landlord Astonished by Shocking Find in Their Apartment

Man Rented His Apartment to a Sweet Old Couple – When They Moved Out, He Was Shocked By What He Found Inside

I believed I had found the ideal renters when I first rented my flat to Hans and Greta, a kind elderly couple with endearing accents and lovely grins. However, after they moved out, I was engulfed in a mystery that would betray my confidence and take an astonishing turn.

I thought Hans and Greta were the cutest couple I had ever seen. Gentle manners, sweet smiles that could soften even the coldest heart, and in her late seventies.

Greta had this sweet, nurturing quality, and Hans had this neat silver moustache that wiggled when he laughed. Their accents were odd and hard to identify; they were a cross between charming and European.

As I gave them a tour of the flat, I hoped that it would be ideal for them.

Greta grinned back, “It’s perfect,” “Just like home.”

They had an easy move in and had no problems at all during their year there. When I visited to check on the property, they left small thank-you notes and made sure the home was kept clean. They also paid their rent on schedule.

Whenever they invited me in for tea, they would regale me with tales of their childhood experiences. It was difficult to think of a better situation.

One afternoon, Hans stated, “Thank you so much for letting us stay here, Mark.” “You’ve been a wonderful landlord.”

“The best tenants have been the two of you. “If only everyone was as wonderful as you,” I answered Greta, taking a drink of her tea. It smelled of chamomile, which was calming.

“Do you remember the time we got lost in the Black Forest?” Greta queried Hans, mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Oh yes, that was quite the adventure!” Hans chuckled. “We were young and foolish, thought we could navigate without a map.”

Greta shook her head and said, “Windowed into a shepherd’s hut for the night.”

But as their lease was about to expire, an odd event happened. Normally so composed and collected, Hans and Greta were eager to get away.

They were continuously rushing, frantically packing boxes and organising items. They gave me the same kind grins as assurances when I asked whether everything was well.

Greta said, “Just some family matters.” “Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you certain? You two sound really desperate,” I inquired, getting anxious.

“Everything is OK, Mark. Just a few pressing family matters. But we’ll miss this location,” Hans remarked, giving me a comforting hand on the shoulder.

They gave me the keys the day they moved out, shaking my hand extra firmly and apologising for leaving so quickly. I was a little sorry to see them go, but I did wish them well.

“I want to thank Mark for everything. Greta gave me a soft hug and added, “We hope to see you again sometime.

I waved back, “Take care, both of you,” and they walked away.

When I went to check the flat the next day, I assumed it would be in the same immaculate state that they had kept it. I opened the door and went inside, but I was shocked by what I saw.

The floor was absent. There was just the naked concrete underneath, all of the hardwood planks that had formerly been there. Stunned, I stood there, trying to take in what had just happened.

“Where the hell is the floor?” I paced the empty rooms, murmuring to myself.

I pulled out my phone, took a picture of the vacant floor, and texted them.

“What happened to the floor?” I enquired and included the picture.

My phone chimed with a response a few minutes later. It came from Hans.

“Oh no, we sincerely apologise for any mistake. It’s customary to move out of the Netherlands and take the floor with you. Here, we considered it to be the same. Our granddaughter had just given birth and needed our assistance with the baby, so we were in a hurry and didn’t have time to explain. We really hope that this hasn’t been too problematic. Permit us to make it right, please. We invite you to visit us in the Netherlands so we can tour you around our stunning nation. From Hans and Greta, with love.”

After reading the message a few times, my initial shock gradually gave way to a startled smile. Though it was such an odd practice, it explained everything. They were merely following a national ritual and hadn’t meant any damage.

I felt that their leaving was urgent because it was as genuine and emotional as they had always seemed.

I laughed and said, “Thank you for the clarification. I have to replace the floor here, but it’s not personal. Perhaps I will accept your invitation to come see you. Warm regards to you and your loved ones.”

However, something bothered me. Is taking the floor a tradition, really? I made the decision to look into it more. I told my friend, a private investigator, the complete incident when I got in touch with him. He consented to investigate it.

He called me a week later to share some startling news.

You won’t believe this, Mark,” he remarked. “Hans and Greta don’t match their stated identities. They are a part of an intricate scheme that preys on landlords, taking valuables and making off with the appearance of a simple error. The floorboards there? They have a little fortune worth.”

“What?” I shot back. “How did they manage to pull this off? I carefully examined their qualifications, and everything seemed legitimate. They were unmarried, had clean credit records, and were in possession of legal residential visas.”

“They’re experts,” my pal went on. “They travel from one place to the next, preying on generous landlords such as yourselves. Their business strategy entails taking valuable products that are simple to sell.”

I was taken aback. “It’s unbelievable. They exuded such sincerity and kindness.”

“That’s how they manage to get you,” he stated. “They build trust and then take advantage of it.”

“We’ve located them,” my pal added. “The stolen floorboards will be offered for sale at an upscale antique market. To capture them in the act, we may put up a sting operation.”

I said, “Let’s do it,” resolved to see justice done.

It was an easy strategy. We would intercept them mid-sale of the pilfered timber. My companion went up to Hans and Greta, who were busy setting up their stall with my floorboards among other antiques, and pretended to be a buyer.

“Pardon me,” murmured my companion. “I have a thing for those flooring. They appear stunning.”

Hans grinned. “Yes, that’s right. exquisite workmanship in the Netherlands. Because we are Dutch ourselves, we are aware. This wood is extremely precious and uncommon.”

My pal said, “How much are you asking?”

Hans answered, “For you, a special price,” revealing an amount that startled my P.I. companion.

Just as the transaction was about to be completed, a coordinated group of police officers surrounded the stall.

“Raise your hands! One of the officers growled, “You’re under arrest for theft and fraud.”

Greta and Hans appeared surprised, but they offered no resistance as they were led away in handcuffs. I was happy to see from a distance, but I was also saddened. How could I have so badly misread these people’s personalities?

When the floors were removed, it was discovered that they were made of expensive imported wood. My life went back to normal after I had the floor restored in the next weeks. However, I couldn’t help but think of Hans and Greta, the strange custom they had deceived me with, and their supposedly constant friendliness.

I got a letter a month later. The actual Hans and Greta from the Netherlands were the source of it. The criminal group had recruited imposters to pose as them and had stolen their identities. Interpol had gotten in touch with them and informed them of the crime.

They extended an invitation for me to travel to the Netherlands and enjoy their warm hospitality. “Mark, we really apologise for what transpired. We sincerely hope that you will find it in your heart to come see us, the real Netherlands, and its real people. Greetings, Greta and Hans.”

With the letter in hand, I reclined and thought back on the encounter. I believed that although trust might be easily broken, it can also be quite strong in the right hands. Perhaps I would see the real Hans and Greta someday and be able to restore my faith in people and trust.

Though it has been fictionalised for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.

The publisher and author disclaim all liability for any misinterpretation and make no claims on the veracity of the events or character portrayals. The thoughts represented in this story are those of the characters and do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the author or publisher. The story is offered “as is.”