The Girl who played with Fire

begun sizing him up like some fucking macho cowboy, she knew that the hunt for Salander would keep Blomkvist busy for the foreseeable future. She knew from experience that he would be impossible to deal with until he solved the problem. He would vacillate between self-absorption and depression. And somewhere in the equation he would also take risks that were probably utterly unnecessary.

And Salander. Berger had met her only once, and she didn’t know enough about that strange girl to share Blomkvist’s certainty that she was innocent. What if Bublanski was right? What if she was guilty? What if Blomkvist did manage to track her down and she turned out to be a lunatic armed with a gun?

Nor had Paolo Roberto’s astonishing conversation earlier that morning been reassuring. It was good, of course, that Blomkvist was not the only one on Salander’s side, but Paolo was a cowboy too.

And where was she going to find someone to replace her at Millennium? It was now becoming urgent. She thought of discussing the matter with Malm, but she couldn’t tell him and still keep the news from Blomkvist.

Blomkvist was a brilliant reporter, but he would be a disaster as editor in chief. She and Malm were much more alike, but she was not at all sure that he would accept the offer. Eriksson was too young, not confident enough yet. Nilsson was too self-absorbed. Cortez was a good reporter, but he was way too inexperienced. Lotta Karim was too flaky. And Berger could not be sure that Malm or Blomkvist would be happy with someone recruited from the outside.

It was a hell of a mess. Not at all the way she wanted to end her tenure at Millennium.

On Sunday evening Salander opened Asphyxia 1.3 and went into the mirrored hard drive of MikBlom/laptop. He was not online and she read through the material that had been added in the past two days.

She read Blomkvist’s research journal and wondered whether he might be writing it in such detail for her sake, and if so, what that could mean. He knew that she was accessing his computer, so it was natural to conclude that he wanted her to read what he wrote. The real question, however, was what he was not writing. Since he knew she was accessing his machine, he could manipulate the flow of information. She noted in passing that he apparently hadn’t gotten much further with Bublanski than challenging him to some sort of a duel over her innocence. This annoyed her. Blomkvist was basing his conclusions on emotion rather than on facts. What a naive idiot.

But he had also zeroed in on Zala. Good thinking, Kalle Blomkvist.

Then she noticed with mild surprise that Paolo Roberto had popped up on the scene. That was good news. She smiled. She liked that cocky fucker. He was macho to his fingertips. He used to give her a pretty good drubbing when they met in the ring. The few times he managed to connect, that is.

Then she sat up in her chair when she decrypted and read Blomkvist’s most recent email to Berger.

Gunnar Bjorck. Sapo. Knows about Zala.

Bjorck knows Bjurman.

Salander’s eyes went blurry as she sketched a triangle in her mind. Zala. Bjurman. Bjorck. Yes, that makes sense. She had never looked at the problem from that perspective before. Maybe Blomkvist wasn’t so dumb after all. But of course he had not worked out the connection. She had not even done that herself, even though she had a lot more insight into what had happened. She thought for a while about Bjurman and realized that the fact he knew Bjorck turned him into a bigger roadblock than she had previously imagined.

She also realized that she would probably have to pay a visit to Smadalaro.

Then she went into Blomkvist’s hard drive and created a new document in the folder which she called [Ring corner]. He would see it the next time he switched on his iBook.

1. Keep away from Teleborian. He’s evil.

2. Miriam Wu has absolutely nothing to do with this.

3. You’re right to focus on Zala. He’s the key. But you’re not going to find him in any public records.

4. There’s a connection between Bjurman and Zala. I don’t know what it is, but I’m working on it. Bjorck?

5. Important. There’s a damaging police report on me from March 1991. I don’t know the file number and can’t find it. Why hasn’t Ekstrom given it to the media? Answer: It’s not on his computer. Conclusion: He doesn’t know about it. How can that be possible?

She thought for a moment and then added a P.S.:

P.S. Mikael, I’m not innocent. But I didn’t kill Dag and Mia – I have nothing to do with their murders. I saw them that evening – before the murders occurred – but I left them before it happened. Thanks for believing in me. Say hello to Paolo Roberto and tell him he has a wimpy left hook.

P.P.S. How did you know about the Wennerstrom thing?

Blomkvist found Salander’s document some three hours later. He read the message line by line at least five times. For the first time she had clearly stated that she did not murder Svensson and Johansson. He believed her and felt enormous relief. And finally she was talking to him, although as cryptically as ever.

He also noted that she denied murdering Dag and Mia, but she said nothing about Bjurman. Which Blomkvist assumed was because he had mentioned only the two of them in his message. He thought for a while and then created [Ring corner 2].

Hi Sally.

Thanks for finally telling me you’re innocent. I believed in you, but even I have been affected by the media noise and felt some doubt. Forgive me. It feels good to hear it straight from your keyboard. All that’s left is to uncover the real killer. You and I have done that before. It would help if you weren’t so cagey. I assume you’re reading my research journal. Then you know about as much as I do and how I’m thinking. I think Bjorck knows something and I’ll have another talk with him in the next few days. Am I on the wrong track, checking off the girls’ clients?

This thing with the police report surprises me. I’ll get my colleague Malin Eriksson to dig into it. You were how old then, twelve or thirteen? What was the report about?

Your attitude towards Teleborian is duly noted.

M.

P.S. You made a mistake in the Wennerstrom coup. I knew what you’d done – in Sandhamn over Christmas – but didn’t ask since you didn’t mention it. And I have no intention of telling you what the mistake was unless you meet me for a coffee.

The reply, when it came, said:

You can forget about the johns. Zala’s the one who’s of interest. And a blond giant. But the police report is interesting since somebody seems to want to hide it. That can’t be an accident.

Prosecutor Ekstrom was in a foul mood when Bublanski’s team gathered for the morning meeting on Monday. More than a week’s searching for a named suspect with a distinctive appearance had produced no result. Ekstrom’s mood did not improve when Andersson, who had been on duty over the weekend, told him of the latest development.

“A break-in?” Ekstrom said with undisguised amazement.

“The neighbour called on Sunday evening to say that the police tape on Bjurman’s door had been cut. I checked on it.”

“And?”

“The tape was cut in three places. Probably a razor blade or a Stanley knife. A slick job. It was hard to see.”