The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo Trilogy Bundle (51 page)

From

To :

Don't do anything about Dahlman. Tell him he's free to go right away and you aren't sure you can pay his wages anyway.
Monopoly
isn't going to survive for long. Bring in more freelance material for this issue. And hire a new managing editor, for God's sake./M.

P.S. Slussplan? It's a date.

From

To :

Slussplan—in your dreams. But we've always done the hiring together./Ricky.

From

To :

And we've always agreed about who we should hire. We will this time too, no matter who you choose. We're going to scupper Wennerström. That's the whole story. Just let me finish this in peace./M.

In early October Salander read an article on the Internet edition of the
Hedestad Courier
. She told Blomkvist about it. Isabella Vanger had died after a short illness. She was mourned by her daughter, Harriet Vanger, lately returned from Australia.

Encrypted email from

To :

Hi Mikael.

Harriet Vanger came to see me at the office today. She called five minutes before she arrived, and I was totally unprepared. A beautiful woman, elegant clothes and a cool gaze.

She came to tell me that she'll be replacing Martin Vanger as Henrik's representative on our board. She was polite and friendly and assured me that the Vanger Corporation had no plans to back out of the agreement. On the contrary, the family stands fully behind Henrik's obligations to the magazine. She asked for a tour of the editorial offices, and she wanted to know how I see the situation.

I told her the truth. That it feels as if I don't have solid ground under my feet, that you have forbidden me to come to Sandhamn, and that I don't know what you're working on, other than that you are planning to sink Wennerström. (I assumed it was OK to say that. She is on the board, after all.) She raised an eyebrow and smiled and asked if I had doubts that you'd succeed. What was I supposed to say to that? I said that I would sleep a little easier if I knew exactly what you were writing. Jeez, of course I trust you. But you're driving me crazy.

I asked her if
she
knew what you were working on. She denied it but said that it was her impression that you were extremely resourceful, with an innovative way of thinking. (Her words.)

I said that I also gathered that something dramatic had happened up in Hedestad and that I was ever so slightly curious about the story regarding Harriet Vanger herself. In short, I felt like an idiot. She asked me whether you really hadn't told me anything. She said that she understood that you and I have a special relationship and that you would undoubtedly tell me the story when you had time. Then she asked if she could trust me. What was I supposed to say? She's on the
Millennium
board, and you've left me here totally in the dark.

Then she said something odd. She asked me not to judge either her or you too harshly. She said she owed you some sort of debt of gratitude, and she would really like it if she and I could also be friends. Then she promised to tell me the story someday if you couldn't do it. Half an hour ago she left, and I'm still in a daze. I think I like her, but who
is
this person?/Erika

P.S. I miss you. I have a feeling that something nasty happened in Hedestad. Christer says that you have a strange mark on your neck.

From

To :

Hi Ricky. The story about Harriet is so miserably awful that you can't even imagine it. It would be great if she could tell you about it herself. I can hardly bring myself to think about it.

By the way, you can trust her. She was telling the truth when she said that she owes a debt of gratitude to me—and believe me, she will never do anything to harm
Millennium
. Be her friend if you like her. She deserves respect. And she's a hell of a businesswoman./M.

The next day Mikael received another email.

From

To :

Hi Mikael. I've been trying to find time to write to you for several weeks now, but it seems there are never enough hours in the day. You left so suddenly from Hedeby that I never had a chance to say goodbye.

Since my return to Sweden, my days have been filled with bewildering impressions and hard work. The Vanger Corporation is in chaos, and along with Henrik I've been working hard to put its affairs in order. Yesterday I visited the
Millennium
offices; I'll be Henrik's representative on the board. Henrik has filled me in on all the details of the magazine's situation and yours.

I hope that you will accept having me show up like this. If you don't want me (or anyone else from the family) on the board, I'll understand, but I do assure you that I'll do all I can to support
Millennium
. I am in great debt to you, and I will always have the best of intentions in this regard.

I met your colleague Erika Berger. I'm not sure what she thought of me, and I was surprised to hear that you hadn't told her about what happened.

I would very much like to be your friend. If you can stand to have anything more to do with the Vanger family. Best regards, Harriet

P.S. I understood from Erika that you're planning to tackle Wennerström again. Dirch Frode told me how Henrik pulled a swifty on you, as they say in Australia. What can I say? I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do, let me know.

From

To :

Hi Harriet. I left Hedeby in a big hurry and am now working on what I really should have been spending my time on this year. You'll be advised in plenty of time before the article goes to press, but I think I can say that the problems of the past year will soon be over.

I hope you and Erika will be friends, and, of course, I have no problem with you being on
Millennium
's board. I'll tell Erika about what happened, if you think that's wise. Henrik wanted me never to say anything to anyone. Let's see, but right now I don't have the time or the energy and I need a little distance first.

Let's keep in touch. Best/Mikael

Salander was not especially interested in what Mikael was writing. She looked up from her book when Blomkvist said something, but at first she could not make it out.

“Sorry. I was talking aloud. I said that this is horrible.”

“What's horrible?”

“Wennerström had an affair with a twenty-two-year-old waitress and he got her pregnant. Have you read his correspondence with his lawyer?”

“My dear Mikael—you have ten years of correspondence, emails, agreements, travel arrangements, and God knows what on that hard drive. I don't find Wennerström so fascinating that I'd cram six gigs of garbage into my head. I read through a fraction of it, mostly to satisfy my curiosity, and that was enough to tell me that he's a gangster.”

“OK. He got her pregnant in 1997. When she wanted compensation, his lawyer got someone to try to convince her to have an abortion. I assume the intention was to offer her a sum of money, but she wasn't interested. Then the persuading ended up with the heavy holding her underwater in a bath until she agreed to leave Wennerström in peace. And Wennerström's idiot writes all this to the lawyer in an email—of course encrypted, but even so … It doesn't say much for the IQ of this bunch.”

“What happened to the girl?”

“She had an abortion, and Wennerström was pleased.”

Salander said nothing for ten minutes. Her eyes had suddenly turned dark.

“One more man who hates women,” she muttered at last.

She borrowed the CDs and spent the next few days reading through Wennerström's emails and other documents. While Blomkvist kept working, Salander was up in the sleeping loft with her PowerBook on her knees, pondering Wennerström's peculiar empire.

An idea had occurred to her and she could not let it go. Most of all she wondered why it had not occurred to her sooner.

         

In late October Mikael turned off his computer when it was only 11:00 in the morning. He climbed up to the sleeping loft and handed Salander what he had written. Then he fell asleep. She woke him that evening and gave him her opinion of the article.

Just after 2:00 in the morning, Blomkvist made the last backup of his work.

The next day he closed the shutters on the windows and locked up. Salander's holiday was over. They went back to Stockholm together.

         

He brought up the subject as they were drinking coffee from paper cups on the Vaxholm ferry.

“What the two of us need to decide is what to tell Erika. She's going to refuse to publish this if I can't explain how I got hold of the material.”

Erika Berger. Blomkvist's editor in chief and long-time lover. Salander had never met her and was not sure that she wanted to either. Berger seemed like some indefinable disturbance in her life.

“What does she know about me?”

“Nothing.” He sighed. “The fact is that I've been avoiding her ever since the summer. She's very frustrated about the fact that I couldn't tell her what happened in Hedestad. She knows, of course, that I've been staying out at Sandhamn and writing this story, but she doesn't know what it's about.”

“Hmm.”

“In a couple of hours she'll have the manuscript. Then she's going to give me the third degree. The question is, what should I tell her?”

“What do you want to tell her?”

“I'd like to tell her the truth.”

Salander frowned.

“Lisbeth, Erika and I argue almost all the time. It seems to be part of how we communicate. But she's absolutely trustworthy. You're a source. She would rather die than reveal who you are.”