The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Nest

loudspeaker which you have in the living room, Mikael. That’s where he places the bag. The fact that he takes a bag from your kitchen is significant.”

“It’s a Konsum bag,” Blomkvist said. “I save them to put cheese and stuff in.”

“I do the same. What matters, of course, is that the bag has your fingerprints on it. Then he takes a copy of S.M.P. from the recycling bin in the hall. He tears off a page to wrap up an object which he puts on the top shelf of your wardrobe. Same thing there: the paper has your fingerprints on it.”

“I get you,” Blomkvist said.

“I drive to your apartment at around 5.00,” Linder said. “I find the following items: in your loudspeaker there are now approximately 180 grams of cocaine. I’ve taken a sample which I have here.”

She put a small evidence bag on the conference table.

“What’s in the wardrobe?” Blomkvist said.

“About 120,000 kronor in cash.”

Armansky motioned to Linder to turn off the T.V. He turned to Fraklund.

“So Mikael Blomkvist is involved in cocaine dealing,” Fraklund said good-naturedly. “Apparently they’ve started to get a little worried about what Blomkvist is working on.”

“This is a counter-move,” Blomkvist said.

“A counter-move to what?”

“They ran into Milton’s security patrol in Morgongava last night.”

He told them what he had heard from Figuerola about Sandberg’s expedition to the printing factory.

“That busy little rascal,” Bohman said.

“But why now?”

“They must be nervous about what Millennium might publish when the trial starts,” Fraklund said. “If Blomkvist is arrested for dealing cocaine, his credibility will drop dramatically.”

Linder nodded. Blomkvist looked sceptical.

“How are we going to handle this?” Armansky said.

“We should do nothing,” Fraklund said. “We hold all the cards. We have crystal-clear evidence of Sandberg planting the stuff in your apartment. Let them spring the trap. We can prove your innocence in a second, and besides, this will be further proof of the Section’s criminal activities. I would so love to be prosecutor when those guys are brought to trial.”

“I don’t know,” Blomkvist said slowly. “The trial starts the day after tomorrow. The magazine is on the stands on Friday, day three of the trial. If they plan to frame me for dealing cocaine, I’ll never have the time to explain how it happened before the magazine comes out. I risk sitting in prison and missing the beginning of the trial.”

“So, all the more reason for you to stay out of sight this week,” Armansky said.

“Well… I have to work with T.V.4 and I’ve got a number of other things to do. It would be enormously inconvenient –”

“Why right now?” Linder said suddenly.

“How do you mean?” Armansky said.

“They’ve had three months to smear Blomkvist. Why do it right now? Whatever happens they’re not going to be able to prevent publication.”

They all sat in silence for a moment.

“It might be because they don’t have a clue what you’re going to publish, Mikael,” Armansky said. “They have to suppose that you have something in the offing… but they might think all you have is Bjorck’s report. They have no reason to know that you’re planning on rolling up the whole Section. If it’s only about Bjorck’s report, then it’s certainly enough to blacken your reputation. Any revelations you might come up with would be drowned out when you’re arrested and charged. Big scandal. The famous Mikael Blomkvist arrested on a drugs charge. Six to eight years in prison.”

“Could I have two copies of the video?” Blomkvist said.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Lodge one copy with Edklinth. And in three hours I’m going to be at T.V.4. I think it would be prudent to have this ready to run on T.V. if or when all hell breaks loose.”

Figuerola turned off the D.V.D. player and put the remote on the table. They were meeting in the temporary office on Fridhemsplan.

“Cocaine,” Edklinth said. “They’re playing a very dirty game here.”

Figuerola looked thoughtful. She glanced at Blomkvist.

“I thought it best to keep all of you up to date,” he said with a shrug.

“I don’t like this,” Figuerola said. “It implies a recklessness. Someone hasn’t really thought this through. They must realize that you wouldn’t go quietly and let yourself be thrown into Kumla bunker under arrest on a drugs charge.”

“I agree,” Blomkvist said.

“Even if you were convicted, there’s still a strong likelihood that people would believe what you have to say. And your colleagues at Millennium wouldn’t keep quiet either.”

“Furthermore, this is costing them a great deal,” Edklinth said. “They have a budget that allows them to distribute 120,000 kronor here and there without blinking, plus whatever the cocaine costs them.”

“I know, but the plan is actually not bad,” Blomkvist said. “They’re counting on Salander landing back in the asylum while I disappear in a cloud of suspicion. They’re also assuming that any attention would be focused on Sapo – not on the Section.”

“But how are they going to convince the drug squad to search your apartment? I mean, an anonymous tip will hardly be enough for someone to kick in the door of a star journalist. And if this is going to work, suspicion would have to be cast on you within forty-eight hours.”

“Well, we don’t really know anything about their schedule,” Blomkvist said.

He felt exhausted and longed for all this to be over. He got up.

“Where are you off to?” Figuerola said. “I’d like to know where you’re going to be for the next few days.”

“I have a meeting with T.V.4 at lunchtime. And at 6.00 I’m going to catch up with Erika Berger over a lamb stew at Samir’s. We’re going to fine-tune the press release. The rest of the afternoon and evening I’ll be at Millennium, I imagine.”

Figuerola’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Berger.

“I need you to stay in touch during the day. I’d prefer it if you stayed in close contact until the trial starts.”

“Maybe I could move in with you for a few days,” Blomkvist said with a playful smile.

Figuerola’s face darkened. She cast a hasty glance at Edklinth.

“Monica’s right,” Edklinth said. “I think it would be best if you stay more or less out of sight for the time being.”

“You take care of your end,” Blomkvist said, “and I’ll take care of mine.”

The presenter of She on T.V.4 could hardly conceal her excitement over the video material that Blomkvist had delivered. Blomkvist was amused at her undisguised glee. For a week they had worked like dogs to put together coherent material about the Section that they could use on T.V. Her producer and the news editor at T.V.4 were in no doubt as to what a scoop the story would be. It was being produced in the utmost secrecy, with only a very few people involved. They had agreed to Blomkvist’s insistence that the story be the lead on the evening of the third day of the trial. They had decided to do an hour-long news special.

Blomkvist had given her a quantity of still photographs to work with, but on television nothing compares to the moving image. She was simply delighted when he showed her the video – in razor-sharp definition – of an identifiable police officer planting cocaine in his apartment.

“This is great T.V.,” she said. “Camera shot: Here is Sapo planting cocaine in the reporter’s apartment.”

“Not Sapo… the Section,” Blomkvist corrected her. “Don’t make the mistake of