The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (59 page)

She felt strangely ambivalent towards him.

He stuck his nose in other people’s business and poked around in her life and…but…she had also enjoyed working with him. Even that was an odd feeling—to work
with
somebody. She wasn’t used to that, but it had been unexpectedly painless. He did not mess with her. He did not try to tell her how to live her life.

She was the one who had seduced him, not vice versa.

And besides, it had been satisfying.

So why did she feel as if she wanted to kick him in the face?

She sighed and unhappily raised her eyes to see an inter-continental roar past on the E4.

Blomkvist was still in the garden at 8:00 when he was roused by the rattle of the motorcycle crossing the bridge and saw Salander riding towards the cottage. She put her bike on its stand and took off her helmet. She came up to the garden table and felt the coffeepot, which was empty and cold. Blomkvist stood up, gazing at her in surprise. She took the coffeepot and went into the kitchen. When she came back out she had taken off her leathers and sat down in jeans and a T-shirt with the slogan
I CAN BE A REGULAR BITCH. JUST TRY ME.

“I thought you’d be in Stockholm by now,” he said.

“I turned round in Uppsala.”

“Quite a ride.”

“I’m sore.”

“Why did you turn around?”

No answer. He waited her out while they drank coffee. After ten minutes she said, reluctantly, “I like your company.”

Those were words that had never before passed her lips.

“It was…interesting to work with you on this case.”

“I enjoyed working with you too,” he said.

“Hmm.”

“The fact is, I’ve never worked with such a brilliant researcher. OK, I know you’re a hacker and hang out in suspect circles in which you can set up an illegal wiretap in London in twenty-four hours, but you get results.”

She looked at him for the first time since she had sat at the table. He knew so many of her secrets.

“That’s just how it is. I know computers. I’ve never had a problem with reading a text and absorbing what it said.”

“Your photographic memory,” he said softly.

“I admit it. I just have no idea how it works. It’s not only computers and telephone networks, but the motor in my bike and TV sets and vacuum cleaners and chemical processes and formulae in astrophysics. I’m a nut case, I admit it: a freak.”

Blomkvist frowned. He sat quietly for a long time.

Asperger’s syndrome,
he thought.
Or something like that. A talent for seeing patterns and understanding abstract reasoning where other people perceive only white noise.

Salander was staring down at the table.

“Most people would give an eye tooth to have such a gift.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We’ll drop it. Are you glad you came back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake.”

“Lisbeth, can you define the word friendship for me?”

“It’s when you like somebody.”

“Sure, but what is it that makes you like somebody?”

She shrugged.

“Friendship—my definition—is built on two things,” he said. “Respect and trust. Both elements have to be there. And it has to be mutual. You can have respect for someone, but if you don’t have trust, the friendship will crumble.”

She was still silent.

“I understand that you don’t want to discuss yourself with me, but someday you’re going to have to decide whether you trust me or not. I want us to be friends, but I can’t do it all by myself.”

“I like having sex with you.”

“Sex has nothing to do with friendship. Sure, friends can have sex, but if I had to choose between sex and friendship when it comes to you, there’s no doubt which I would pick.”

“I don’t get it. Do you want to have sex with me or not?”

“You shouldn’t have sex with people you’re working with,” he muttered. “It just leads to trouble.”

“Did I miss something here, or isn’t it true that you and Erika Berger fuck every time you get the chance? And she’s married.”

“Erika and I…have a history that started long before we started working together. The fact that she’s married is none of your business.”

“Oh, I see, all of a sudden you’re the one who doesn’t want to talk about yourself. And there I was, learning that friendship is a matter of trust.”

“What I mean is that I don’t discuss a friend behind her back. I’d be breaking her trust. I wouldn’t discuss you with Erika behind your back either.”

Salander thought about that. This had become an awkward conversation. She did not like awkward conversations.

“I do like having sex with you,” she said.

“I like it too…but I’m still old enough to be your father.”

“I don’t give a shit about your age.”

“No, you can’t ignore our age difference. It’s no sort of basis for a lasting relationship.”

“Who said anything about lasting?” Salander said. “We just finished up a case in which men with fucked-up sexuality played a prominent role. If I had to decide, men like that would be exterminated, every last one of them.”

“Well, at least you don’t compromise.”

“No,” she said, giving him her crooked non-smile. “But at least you’re not like them.” She got up. “Now I’m going in to take a shower, and then I think I’ll get into your bed naked. If you think you’re too old, you’ll have to go and sleep on the camp bed.”

Whatever hang-ups Salander had, modesty certainly was not one of them. He managed to lose every argument with her. After a while he washed up the coffee things and went into the bedroom.

They got up at 10:00, took a shower together, and ate breakfast out in the garden. At 11:00 Dirch Frode called and said that the funeral would take place at 2:00 in the afternoon, and he asked if they were planning to attend.

“I shouldn’t think so,” said Mikael.

Frode asked if he could come over around 6:00 for a talk. Mikael said that would be fine.

He spent a few hours sorting the papers into the packing crates and carrying them over to Henrik’s office. Finally he was left with only his own notebooks and the two binders about the Hans-Erik Wennerström affair that he hadn’t opened in six months. He sighed and stuffed them into his bag.

Frode rang to say he was running late and did not reach the cottage until 8:00. He was still in his funeral suit and looked harried when he sat down on the kitchen bench and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Salander offered him. She sat at the side table with her computer while Blomkvist asked how Harriet’s reappearance had been received by the family as a whole.

“You might say that it has overshadowed Martin’s demise. Now the media have found out about her too.”

“And how are you explaining the situation?”

“Harriet talked with a reporter from the
Courier
. Her story is that she ran away from home because she didn’t get along with her family, but that she obviously has done well in the world since she’s the head of a very substantial enterprise.”

Blomkvist whistled.

“I discovered that there was money in Australian sheep, but I didn’t know the station was doing that well.”

“Her sheep station is going superbly, but that isn’t her only source of income. The Cochran Corporation is in mining, opals, manufacturing, transport, electronics, and a lot of other things too.”

“Wow! So what’s going to happen now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. People have been turning up all day, and the family has been together for the first time in years. They’re here from both Fredrik and Johan Vanger’s sides, and quite a few from the younger generation too—the ones in their twenties and up. There are probably around forty Vangers in Hedestad this evening. Half of them are at the hospital wearing out Henrik; the other half are at the Grand Hotel talking to Harriet.”

“Harriet must be the big sensation. How many of them know about Martin?”

“So far it’s just me, Henrik, and Harriet. We had a long talk together. Martin and…your uncovering of his unspeakable life, it’s overshadowing just about everything for us at the moment. It has brought an enormous crisis for the company to a head.”

“I can understand that.”

“There is no natural heir, but Harriet is staying in Hedestad for a while. The family will work out who owns what, how the inheritance is to be divided and so on. She actually has a share of it that would have been quite large if she had been here the whole time. It’s a nightmare.”

Mikael laughed. Frode was not laughing at all.

“Isabella had a collapse at the funeral. She’s in the hospital now. Henrik says he won’t visit her.”

“Good for Henrik.”

“However, Anita is coming over from London. I am to call a family meeting for next week. It will be the first time in twenty-five years that she’s participated.”

“Who will be the new CEO?”

“Birger is after the job, but he’s out of the question. What’s going to happen is that Henrik will step in as CEO pro tem from his sickbed until we hire either someone from outside or someone from within the family…”

Blomkvist raised his eyebrows.

“Harriet? You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? We’re talking about an exceptionally competent and respected businesswoman.”

“She has a company in Australia to look after.”

“True, but her son Jeff Cochran is minding the store in her absence.”

“He’s the studs manager on a sheep ranch. If I understood the matter correctly, he sees to it that the correct sheep mate with each other.”

“He also has a degree in economics from Oxford and a law degree from Melbourne.”

Blomkvist thought about the sweaty, muscular man with his shirt off who had driven him into and through the ravine; he tried to imagine him in a pinstripe suit. Why not?

“All of this will take time to work out,” Frode said. “But she would be a perfect CEO. With the right support team she could represent a whole new deal for the company.”

“She doesn’t have the experience…”

“That’s true. She can’t just pop up out of more or less nowhere and start micro-managing the company. But the Vanger Corporation is international, and we could certainly have an American CEO who doesn’t speak a word of Swedish…it’s only business, when all’s said and done.”

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to face up to the problem of Martin’s basement.”

“I know. But we can’t say anything without destroying Harriet…I’m glad I’m not the one who has to make the decision about this.”

“Damn it, Dirch, you won’t be able to bury the fact that Martin was a serial killer.”

“Mikael, I’m in a…very uncomfortable position.”

“Tell me.”

“I have a message from Henrik. He thanks you for the outstanding work you did and says that he considers the contract fulfilled. That means he is releasing you from any further obligations and that you no longer have to live or work here in Hedestad, etc. So, taking effect immediately, you can move back to Stockholm and devote yourself to your other pursuits.”

“He wants me to vanish from the scene, is that the gist of it?”

“Absolutely not. He wants you to visit him for a conversation about the future. He says he hopes that his involvement on the board of
Millennium
can proceed without restrictions. But…”

Frode looked even more uncomfortable, if that was possible.

“Don’t tell me, Dirch…he no longer wants me to write a history of the Vanger family.”

Dirch Frode nodded. He picked up a notebook, opened it, and pushed it over to Mikael.

“He wrote you this letter.”

Dear Mikael,

I have nothing but respect for your integrity, and I don’t intend to insult you by trying to tell you what to write. You may write and publish whatever you like, and I won’t exert any pressure on you whatsoever.

Our contract remains valid, if you want to continue. You have enough material to finish the chronicle of the Vanger family.

Mikael, I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my entire life. I’ve always thought that a person should follow his morals and his convictions. This time I have no choice.

I am, with this letter, begging you, both as a friend and as part owner of
Millennium,
to refrain from publishing the truth about Gottfried and Martin. I know that’s wrong, but I see no way out of this darkness. I have to choose between two evils, and in this case there are no winners.

I beg you not to write anything that would further hurt Harriet. You know first-hand what it’s like to be the subject of a media campaign. The campaign against you was of quite modest proportions. You can surely imagine what it would be like for Harriet if the truth were to come out. She has been tormented for forty years and shouldn’t have to suffer any more for the deeds that her brother and her father committed. And I beg you to think through the consequences this story might have for the thousands of employees in the company. This could crush her and annihilate us.

Henrik

“Henrik also says that if you require compensation for financial losses that may arise from your refraining from publishing the story, he is entirely open to discussion. You can set any financial demands you think fit.”