The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo Trilogy Bundle (92 page)

“I do take your word for it.”

“Let me give you a piece of advice. Don't guess. Don't jump to conclusions. Just accept that she worked for me and that I cannot and will not discuss what it involved. She did something else for me. During that time she saved my life. Literally.”

Eriksson looked up in surprise. She had not heard a word about that at
Millennium
.

“So that means you know her rather well.”

“As well as anyone can know Lisbeth Salander, I suppose,” Blomkvist said. “She is the most introverted person I've ever met.”

He sprang to his feet and looked out into the darkness.

“I don't know if you want one, but I think I'll make myself a vodka and lime juice,” he said at last.

“Sounds much better than another cup of coffee.”

Armansky spent the Easter weekend at his cabin on the island of Blidö thinking about Salander. His children were grown up and had chosen not to spend the holiday with their parents. Ritva, his wife of twenty-five years, noticed that he seemed sometimes far away. He would subside into silent brooding and answered absentmindedly when she spoke to him. He drove every day to the nearest shop to buy the newspapers. He would sit by the window on the veranda and read about the hunt for Salander.

Armansky was disappointed that he had so terribly misjudged her. He had known for several years that she had mental problems. The idea that she could be violent and seriously injure someone who was threatening her did not surprise him. The idea that she had attacked her guardian—whom she would without a doubt perceive as someone who meddled in her affairs—was understandable. She viewed any attempt to control her life as provocative and possibly hostile.

On the other hand, he could not for the life of him understand what would have prompted her to murder two people who, according to all available information, were utterly unknown to her.

Armansky kept waiting for a link to be established between Salander and the couple in Enskede. But no such link was reported in the newspapers; instead there was speculation that the mentally ill woman must have had some sort of breakdown.

Twice he telephoned Inspector Bublanski and asked about developments, but not even the director of the investigation could give him a connection. Blomkvist knew both Salander and the couple, but there was nothing to suggest that Salander knew or had even heard of Svensson and Johansson. If the murder weapon had not had her fingerprints on it, and had there not been an unchallengable link to Bjurman, the police would have been fumbling in the dark.

“So let's sum up,” Eriksson said. “The assignment is to find out whether Salander murdered Dag and Mia, as the police claim. Where to begin?”

“Look at it as an excavation job. We don't have to do our own police investigation. But we do have to stay on top of what the police uncover and worm out of them what they know. It'll be just like any other job, except that we don't necessarily have to publish everything we find out.”

“But if Salander is the killer, there has to be a significant connection between her and Dag and Mia. And the only connection so far is you.”

“And in fact I'm no connection at all. I haven't talked to Lisbeth in more than a year. How could she have known that—”

Blomkvist suddenly stopped. Lisbeth Salander: the world-class hacker. It dawned on him that his iBook was full of correspondence with Svensson, as well as various versions of the book and a file containing Johansson's thesis. He couldn't know if Salander was checking his computer. But what possible reason could she have to shoot Svensson and Johansson? What they were working on was a report about violence against women, and Salander should have encouraged them in every way. If Blomkvist knew her at all.

“You look like you've thought of something,” Eriksson said.

He had no intention of telling her about Salander's talents with computers.

“No, I'm just tired and going a little off the rails,” he said.

“Well, now, your Lisbeth is suspected of killing not only Dag and Mia but also her guardian, and in that case the connection is crystal clear. What do you know about him?”

“Not a thing. I never heard his name; I didn't even know she had a guardian.”

“But the likelihood of someone else having murdered all three of them is negligible. Even if someone killed Dag and Mia because of their story, there wouldn't be the slightest reason for whoever it was to kill Salander's guardian as well.”

“I know, and I've worried myself sick over it. But I can imagine one scenario, at least, where an outside person might murder Dag and Mia as well as Lisbeth's guardian.”

“And what's that?”

“Let's say that Dag and Mia were murdered because they were rooting around in the sex trade and Lisbeth had somehow gotten involved as a third party. If Bjurman was Lisbeth's guardian, then there's a chance that she confided in him and he thereby became a witness to or obtained knowledge of something that subsequently led to his murder.”

“I see what you mean,” Eriksson said. “But you don't have a grain of evidence for that theory.”

“No, not one grain.”

“So what do you think? Is she guilty or not?”

Blomkvist thought for a long time.

“You're asking me if she is capable of murder? The answer is yes. Salander has a violent streak. I've seen her in action when …”

“When she saved your life?”

Blomkvist looked at her, then said, “I can't tell you the circumstances. But there was a man who was going to kill me and he was just about to succeed. She stepped in and beat him senseless with a golf club.”

“And you haven't told the police any of this?”

“Absolutely not. And this has to remain between you and me.” He gave her a sharp look. “Malin, I have to be able to trust you on this.”

“I won't tell anyone about anything we discuss. You're not just my boss—I like you too, and I don't want to do anything that would hurt you.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

He laughed and then turned serious again. “I'm convinced that if it had been necessary, she would have killed that man to protect me. But at the same time I believe she's quite rational. Peculiar, yes, but completely rational according to her own scheme of things. She used violence because she had to, not because she wanted to. To kill someone, she would have to be exceedingly threatened or provoked.”

He thought for a while. Eriksson watched him patiently.

“I can't explain the lawyer. I don't know a thing about him. But I just
can't imagine her being threatened or provoked—at all—by Dag and Mia. It's not possible.”

They sat quietly for a long time. Eriksson looked at her watch and saw that it was 9:30.

“It's late. I have to be getting home.”

“It's been a long day. We can go on sifting tomorrow. No, leave the dishes. I'll take care of it.”

On the Saturday night before Easter, Armansky lay awake, listening to Ritva sleeping. He could not make sense of the drama. In the end he got up, put on his slippers and dressing gown, and went into the living room. The air was cool and he put a few pieces of wood in the soapstone stove, opened a beer, and sat looking out at the dark waters of the Furusund channel.

What do I know
?

Salander was unpredictable. No doubt about that.

Something had happened in the winter of 2003, when she stopped working for him and disappeared on her year-long sabbatical abroad. Blomkvist was somehow mixed up in her sudden departure—but he didn't know what had happened to her either.

She came back and had come to see him. Claimed that she was “financially independent,” which presumably meant that she had enough to get by for a while.

She had been regularly to see Palmgren. She had not been in touch with Blomkvist.

She had shot three people, two apparently unknown to her.

It doesn't make any sense
.

Armansky took a gulp of his beer and lit a cigarillo. He had a guilty conscience, and that contributed to his bad mood.

When Bublanski had been to see him, Armansky had unhesitatingly given him as much information as he could so that Salander could be caught. He had no doubt that she had to be caught—and the sooner the better. Armansky was a realist. If the police told him that a person was suspected of murder, the chances were that it was true. So Salander was guilty.

But the police weren't taking into account whether she might have felt that her actions were justified—or whether there might be some mitigating circumstance or a reasonable explanation for her having gone berserk. The police were required to catch her and prove that she had
fired the shots, not dig into her psyche. They would be satisfied if they could find a motive, but failing that, they were ready to call it an act of insanity. He shook his head. He could not accept that she was an insane mass murderer. Salander never did anything against her will or without thinking through the consequences.

Peculiar—yes. Insane—no
.

So there had to be an explanation, no matter how obscure it might appear to anyone who did not know her.

At around 2:00 in the morning he made a decision.

Armansky got up early on Sunday after hours of worrying. He padded downstairs without waking Ritva and made coffee and a sandwich. Then he opened his laptop.

He opened the report form that Milton Security used for personal investigations. He typed in as many facts as he could think of about Salander's personality.

At 9:00 Ritva came down and poured herself coffee. She wondered what he was doing. He gave a noncommittal answer and kept writing. He was going to be a lost cause all day.

Blomkvist turned out to be wrong, probably because it was Easter weekend and police headquarters was still relatively empty. It took until Sunday morning before the media discovered that he was the one who had found Svensson and Johansson. The first to call was a reporter from
Aftonbladet
, an old friend.

“Hello, Blomkvist. It's Nicklasson.”

“Hello, Nicklasson.”

“So you were the one who found the couple in Enskede.”

Blomkvist confirmed that was true.

“My source tells me they worked for
Millennium.
”

“Your source is part right and part wrong. Dag Svensson was doing a freelance report for
Millennium
. Mia Johansson wasn't working for us.”

“Oh boy. This is a hell of a story, you've got to admit.”

“I know,” Blomkvist said wearily.

“Why haven't you released a statement?”

“Dag was a colleague and a friend. We thought it would be best at least to tell his and Mia's relatives what happened before we put out any story.”

Blomkvist knew that he wouldn't be quoted on that point.

“That makes sense. What was Dag working on?”

“A story we commissioned.”

“What about?”

“What sort of scoop are you planning at
Aftonbladet
?”

“So it was a scoop.”

“Screw you, Nicklasson.”

“Oh, come on, Blomman. You think the murders had anything to do with the story Dag Svensson was working on?”

“You call me Blomman one more time, and I'm hanging up and not talking to you for the rest of the year.”

“All right, I'm sorry. Do you think Dag was murdered because of his work as an investigative journalist?”

“I have no idea why Dag was murdered.”

“Did the story he was working on have anything to do with Lisbeth Salander?”

“No. Nothing whatsoever.”

“Did Dag know that nutcase?”

“I have no idea.”

“Dag wrote a bunch of articles on computer crime recently. Was that the type of story he was writing for
Millennium
?”

You just won't give up
,
will you
? Blomkvist thought. He was about to tell Nicklasson to piss off when he sat bolt upright in bed. He had just had two great ideas. Nicklasson started to say something else.

“Hold on, Nicklasson. Don't move. I'll be right back.”

Blomkvist got up and held his hand over the mouthpiece. He was suddenly on a completely different planet.

Ever since the murders, he had been racking his brains about how he could find a way to get in touch with Salander. There was a chance—a rather good chance—that she would read what he said to the newspapers, wherever she was. If he denied that he knew her, she might interpret that to mean that he had abandoned her or betrayed her. If he defended her, then other people would interpret it as meaning that he knew more about the murders than he had said. But if he made a statement in just the right way, it might give Salander an impulse to reach him.

“Sorry, I'm back. What did you say?”

“Was Dag writing about computer crime?”

“If you want a sound bite from me, I'll give you one.”

“Go for it.”

“Only if you quote me word for word.”

“How else would I quote you?”

“I'd rather not answer that question.”

“So what do you want to say?”

“I'll email it to you in fifteen minutes.”

“What?”

“Check your email,” Blomkvist said and hung up. He went over to his desk and booted up his iBook. He opened Word and sat there concentrating for two minutes before he started writing.