aslocked.hethoughtforamoment,thentoldsalandertositdownandwaitforhim.hewalkedovertoseeannanygrenandknocked.heexplainedthathewantedtohaveacloserlookatthefamilycrypt,andhewonderedwherehenrikmightkeepthekey.annalookeddoubtful,butshecollectedthekeyfromhisdesk.
assoonastheyopenedthedoor,theyknewthattheyhadbeenright.thestenchofburnedcadaverandcharredremainshungheavyintheair.butthecattorturerhadnotmadeafire.inonecornerstoodablowtorch,thekindusedbyskierstomeltthewaxontheirskis.salandergotthecameraoutofthepocketofherjeansskirtandtooksomepictures.then,gingerly,shepickeduptheblowtorch.
“thiscouldbeevidence.hemighthaveleftfingerprints,”shesaid.
“ohsure,wecanaskthevangerfamilytolineupandgiveustheirfingerprints.”blomkvistsmiled.“iwouldlovetowatchyougetisabella’s.”
“thereareways,”salandersaid.
therewasagreatdealofbloodonthefloor,notallofitdry,aswellasaboltcutter,whichtheyreckonedhadbeenusedtocutoffthecat’shead.
blomkvistlookedaround.araisedsarcophagusbelongedtoalexandrevangeersad,andfourgravesinthefloorhousedtheremainsoftheearliestfamilymembers.morerecentlythevangershadapparentlysettledforcremation.aboutthirtynichesonthewallhadthenamesoftheclanancestors.blomkvisttracedthefamilychronicleforwardintime,wonderingwheretheyburiedfamilymemberswhowerenotgivenspaceinsidethecrypt—thosenotdeemedimportantenough.
“nowweknow,”blomkvistsaidastheywerere-crossingthebridge.“we’rehuntingforthepletelunatic.”
“whatdoyoumean?”
blomkvistpausedinthemiddleofthebridgeandleanedontherail.
“ifthiswassomerun-of-the-millcrackpotwhowastryingtofrightenus,hewouldhavetakenthecatdowntothegarageorevenoutintothewoods.buthewenttothecrypt.there’ssomethingpulsiveaboutthat.justthinkoftherisk.it’ssummerandpeopleareoutandaboutatnight,goingforwalks.theroadthroughthecemeteryisamainroadbetweenthenorthandsouthofhedeby.evenifheshutthedoorbehindhim,thecatmusthaveraisedcain,andtheremusthavebeenaburningsmell.”
“he?”
“idon’tthinkthatceciliavangerwouldbecreepingaroundhereinthenightwithablowtorch.”
salandershrugged.
“idon’ttrustanylastoneofthem,includingfrodeoryourfriendhenrik.they’reallpartofafamilythatwouldswindleyouiftheyhadthechance.sowhatdowedonow?”
blomkvistsaid,“i’vediscoveredalotofsecretsaboutyou.howmanypeople,forexample,knowthatyou’reahacker?”
“no-one.”
“no-oneexceptme,youmean.”
“whatareyougettingat?”
“iwanttoknowifyou’reokwithme.ifyoutrustme.”
shelookedathimforalongmoment.finally,forananswer,sheonlyshrugged.
“there’snothingicandoaboutit.”
“doyoutrustme?”blomkvistpersisted.
“forthetimebeing,”shesaid.
“good.let’sgoovertoseefrode.”
thiswasthefirsttimeadvokatfrode’swifehadmetsalander.shegaveherawide-eyedlookatthesametimeasshesmiledpolitely.frode’sfacelitupwhenhesawsalander.hestoodtowelethem.
“hownicetoseeyou,”hesaid.“i’vebeenfeelingguiltythatineverproperlyexpressedmygratitudefortheextraordinaryworkyoudidforus.bothlastwinterandnow,thissummer.”
salandergavehimasuspiciousglare.
“iwaspaid,”shesaid.
“that’snotit.imadesomeassumptionsaboutyouwhenifirstsawyou.youwouldbekindtopardonmeinretrospect.”
blomkvistwassurprised.frodewascapableofaskingatwenty-five-year-oldpiercedandtattooedgirltofivehimforsomethingforwhichhehadnoneedtoapologise!thelawyerclimbedafewnotchesinblomkvist’seyes.salanderstaredstraightahead,ignoringhim.
frodelookedatblomkvist.
“whatdidyoudotoyourhead?”
theysatdown.blomkvistsummedupthedevelopmentsofthepasttwenty-fourhours.ashedescribedhowsomeonehadshotathimoutnearthefortress,frodeleapedtohisfeet.
“thisisbarkingmad.”hepausedandfixedhiseyesonblomkvist.“i’msorry,butthishastostop.ican’thaveit.iamgoingtotalktohenrikandbreakthecontract.”
“sitdown,”saidblomkvist.
“youdon’tunderstand…”
“whatiunderstandisthatlisbethandihavegotsoclosethatwhoeverisbehindallofthisisreactinginaderangedmanner,inpanic.we’vegotsomequestions.firstofall:howmanykeysaretheretothevangerfamilycryptandwhohasone?”
“it’snotmyprovince,andihavenoidea,”frodesaid.“iwouldsupposethatseveralfamilymemberswouldhaveaesstothecrypt.iknowthathenrikhasakey,andthatisabellasometimesgoesthere,butican’ttellyouwhethershehasherownkeyorwhethersheborrowshenrik’s.”
“ok.you’restillonthemainboard.arethereanycorporatearchives?alibraryorsomethinglikethat,wherethey’vecollectedpressclippingsandrmationaboutthefirmovertheyears?”
“yes,thereis.atthehedestadmainoffice.”
“weneedaesstoit.arethereanyoldstaffnewslettersoranythinglikethat?”
“againihavetoconcedethatidon’tknow.ihaven’tbeentothearchivesmyselfinthirtyyears.youneedtotalktoawomannamedbodillindgren.”
“couldyoucallherandarrangethatlisbethhasaesstothearchivesthisafternoon?sheneedsalltheoldpressclippingsaboutthevangercorporation.”
“that’snoproblem.anythingelse?”
“yes.gregervangerwasholdingahasselbladinhishandonthedaythebridgeaidentourred.thatmeansthathealsomighthavetakensomepictures.wherewouldthepictureshaveendedupafterhisdeath?”
“withhiswidoworhisson,logically.letmecallalexanderandaskhim.”
“whatamilookingfor?”salandersaidwhentheywereontheirwaybacktotheisland.
“pressclippingsandstaffnewsletters.iwantyoutoreadthrougheverythingaroundthedateswhenthemurdersinthefiftiesandsixtiesweremitted.makeanoteofanythingthatstrikesyou.betterifyoudothispartofthejob.itseemsthatyourmemory…”
shepunchedhimintheside.
fiveminuteslaterherkawasakiwasclatteringacrossthebridge.
blomkvistshookhandswithalexandervanger.hehadbeenawayformostofthetimethatblomkvisthadbeeninhedeby.hewastwentywhenharrietdisappeared.
“dirchsaidthatyouwantedtolookatoldphotographs.”
“yourfatherhadahasselblad,ibelieve.”
“that’sright.it’sstillhere,butno-oneusesit.”
“iexpectyouknowthathenrikhasaskedmetostudyagainwhathappenedtoharriet.”
“that’swhatiunderstand.andthereareplentyofpeoplewhoaren’thappyaboutthat.”
“apparentlyso,andofcourseyoudon’thavetoshowmeanything.”
“please…whatwouldyouliketosee?”
“ifyourfathertookanypicturesonthedayoftheaident,thedaythatharrietdisappeared.”
theywentuptotheattic.ittookseveralminutesbeforealexanderwasabletoidentifyaboxofunsortedphotographs.
“takehomethewholebox,”hesaid.“ifthereareanyatall,they’llbeinthere.”
asillustrationsforthefamilychronicle,gregervanger’sboxheldsomerealgems,includinganumberofgregertogetherwithsvenoloflindholm,thebigswedishnazileaderintheforties.thosehesetaside.
hefoundenvelopesofpicturesthatgregerhadtakenoffamilygatheringsaswellasmanytypicalholidayphotographs—fishinginthemountainsandajourneyinitaly.
hefoundfourpicturesofthebridgeaident.inspiteofhisexceptionalcamera,gregerwasawretchedphotographer.twopictureswereclose-upsofthetankertruckitself,twowereofspectators,takenfrombehind.hefoundonlyoneinwhichceciliavangerwasvisibleinsemi-profile.
hescannedinthepictures,eventhoughheknewthattheywouldtellhimnothingnew.heputeverythingbackintheboxandhadasandwichlunchashethoughtthingsover.thenhewenttoseeanna.
“doyouthinkhenrikhadanyphotographalbumsotherthantheonesheassembledforhisinvestigationaboutharriet?”
“yes,henrikhasalwaysbeeninterestedinphotography—eversincehewasyoung,i’vebeentold.hehaslotsofalbumsinhisoffice.”
“couldyoushowme?”
herreluctancewasplaintosee.itwasohingtolendblomkvistthekeytothefamilycrypt—godwasinchargethere,afterall—butitwasanothermattertolethimintohenrikvanger’soffice.god’swritdidnotextendthere.blomkvistsuggestedthatannashouldcallfrode.finallysheagreedtoallowhimin.almostthreefeetoftheverybottomshelfwastakenupwithphotographalbums.hesatatthedeskandopenedthefirstalbum.
vangerhadsavedeverylastfamilyphotograph.manywereobviouslyfromlongbeforehistime.theoldestpicturesdatedbacktothe1870s,showinggruffmenandsternwomen.therewerepicturesofvanger’sparents.oneshowedhisfathercelebratingmidsummerwithalargeandcheerfulgroupinsandhamnin1906.anothersandhamnphotographshowedfredrikvangerandhiswife,ulrika,withanderszornandalbertengstr?msittingatatable.otherphotographsshowedworkersonthefactoryfloorandinoffices.hefoundcaptainoskargranathwhohadtransportedvangerandhisbelovededithlobachtosafetyinkarlskrona.
annacameupstairswithacupofcoffee.hethankedher.bythenhehadreachedmoderntimesandwaspagingthroughimagesofvangerinhisprime,openingfactories,shakinghandswithtageerlander,oneofvangerandmarcuswallenberg—thetwocapitalistsstaringgrimlyateachother.
inthesamealbumhefoundaspreadonwhichvangerhadwritteninpencil“familycouncil1966.”twocolourphotographsshowedmentalkingandsmokingcigars.herecognisedhenrik,harald,greger,andseveralofthemalein-lawsinjohanvanger’sbranchofthefamily.twophotographsshowedtheformaldinner,fortymenandwomenseatedatthetable,alllookingintothecamera.thepicturesweretakenafterthedramaatthebridgewasoverbutbeforeanyonewasawarethatharriethaddisappeared.hestudiedtheirfaces.thiswasthedinnersheshouldhaveattended.didanyofthemenknowthatshewasgone?thephotographsprovidednoanswer.
thensuddenlyhechokedonhiscoffee.hestartedcoughingandsatupstraightinhischair.
atthefarendofthetablesatceciliavangerinherlight-coloureddress,smilingintothecamera.nexttohersatanotherblondewomanwithlonghairandanidenticallight-coloureddress.theyweresoalikethattheycouldhavebeentwins.andsuddenlythepuzzlepiecefellintoplace.ceciliawasn’ttheoneinharriet’swindow—itwashersister,anita,twoyearsherjuniorandnowlivinginlondon.
whatwasitsalanderhadsaid?ceciliavangerisinalotofthepictures.notatall.thereweretwogirls,andaschancewouldhaveit—untilnow—theyhadneverbeenseeninthesameframe.intheblack-and-whitephotographs,fromadistance,theylookedidentical.vangerhadpresumablyalwaysbeenabletotellthesistersapart,butforblomkvistandsalanderthegirlslookedsoalikethattheyhadassumeditwasoneperson.andno-onehadeverpointedouttheirmistakebecausetheyhadneverthoughttoask.
blomkvistturnedthepageandfeltthehairsonthebackofhisneckstandonend.itwasasifacoldgustofwindpassedthroughtheroom.
therewerepicturestakenthenextday,whenthesearchforharriethadbegun.ayounginspectormorellwasgivinginstructionstoasearchpartyconsistingoftwouniformedpoliceofficersandtenmenwearingbootswhowereabouttosetout.vangerwaswearingaknee-lengthraincoatandanarrow-brimmedenglishhat.
ontheleftofthephotographstoodayoung,slightlystoutyoungmanwithlight,longishhair.hehadonadarkpaddedjacketwitharedpatchattheshoulder.theimagewasveryclear.blomkvistrecognisedhimatonce—andthejacket—but,justtomakesure,heremovedthephotographandwentdowntoaskannaifsherecognisedtheman.
“yes,ofcourse,that’smartin.”
salanderploughedthroughyearafteryearofpresscuttings,movinginchronologicalorder.shebeganin1949andworkedherwayforward.thearchivewashuge.thepanywasmentionedinthemedianearlyeverydayduringtherelevanttimeperiod—notonlyinthelocalpressbutalsointhenationalmedia.therewerefinancialanalyses,tradeunionnegotiations,thethreatofstrikes,factoryopeningsandfactoryclosings,annualreports,changesinmanagers,newproductsthatwerelaunched…therewasafloodofnews.click.click.click.herbrainwasworkingathighspeedasshefocusedandabsorbedthermationfromtheyellowingpages.
afterseveralhoursshehadanidea.sheaskedthearchivesmanageriftherewasachartshowingwherethevangercorporationhadfactoriesorpaniesduringthefiftiesandsixties.
bodillindgrenlookedatsalanderwithundisguisedcoldness.shewasnotatallhappygivingatotalstrangerpermissiontoentertheinnersanctumofthefirm’sarchives,beingobligedtoallowhertolookthroughwhateverdocumentssheliked.andbesides,thisgirllookedlikesomesortofhalf-wittedfifteen-year-oldanarchist.butherrfrodehadgivenherinstructionsthatcouldnotbemisinterpreted.thisslipofagirlwastobefreetolookatanythingshepleased.anditwasurgent.shebroughtouttheprintedannualreportsfortheyearsthatsalanderwantedtosee;eachreportcontainedachartofthefirm’sdivisionsthroughoutsweden.
salanderlookedatthechartsandsawthatthefirmhadmanyfactories,offices,andsalesoutlets.ateverysitewhereamurderwasmitted,therewasalsoareddot,sometimesseveral,indicatingthevangercorporation.
shefoundthefirstconnectionin1957.rakellunde,landskrona,wasfounddeadthedayafterthev.&c.constructionpanyclinchedanorderworthseveralmilliontobuildagalleriainthetown.v.&c.stoodforvangerandcarlénconstruction.thelocalpaperhadinterviewedgottfriedvanger,whohadetotowntosignthecontract.
salanderrecalledsomethingshehadreadinthepoliceinvestigationintheprovincialrecordofficeinlandskrona.rakellunde,fortune-tellerinherfreetime,wasanofficecleaner.shehadworkedforv.&c.construction.
at7:00intheeveningblomkvistcalledsalanderadozentimesandeachtimehermobilewasturnedoff.shedidnotwanttobedisturbed.
hewanderedrestlesslythroughthehouse.hehadpulledoutvanger’snotesonmartin’sactivitiesatthetimeofharriet’sdisappearance.
martinvangerwasinhislastyearatthepreparatoryschoolinuppsalain1966.uppsala.lenaandersson,seventeen-year-oldpreparatoryschoolpupil.headseparatedfromthefat.
vangerhadmentionedthisatonepoint,butblomkvisthadtoconsulthisnotestofindthepassage.martinhadbeenanintrovertedboy.theyhadbeenworriedabouthim.afterhisfatherdrowned,isabellahaddecidedtosendhimtouppsala—achangeofscenewherehewasgivenroomandboardwithharaldvanger.haraldandmartin?ithardlyfeltright.
martinvangerwasnotwithharaldinthecargoingtothegatheringinhedestad,andhehadmissedatrain.hearrivedlateintheafternoonandsowasamongthosestrandedonthewrongsideofthebridge.heonlyarrivedontheislandbyboatsometimeafter6:00.hewasreceivedbyvangerhimself,amongothers.vangerhadputmartinfardownthelistofpeoplewhomighthavehadanythingtodowithharriet’sdisappearance.
martinsaidthathehadnotseenharrietonthatday.hewaslying.hehadarrivedinhedestadearlierinthedayandhewasonj?rnv?gsgatan,facetofacewithhissister.blomkvistcouldprovetheliewithphotographsthathadbeenburiedforalmostfortyyears.
harrietvangerhadseenherbrotherandreactedwithshock.shehadgoneouttohedebyislandandtriedtotalktohenrik,butshewasgonebeforeanyconversationcouldtakeplace.whatwereyouthinkingoftellinghim?uppsala?butlenaandersson,uppsala,wasnotonthelist.youcouldnothaveknownaboutit.
thestorystilldidnotmakesensetoblomkvist.harriethaddisappearedaround3:00intheafternoon.martinwasunquestionablyontheothersideofthewateratthattime.hecouldbeseeninthephotographfromthechurchhill.hecouldnotpossiblyhavehurtharrietontheisland.onepuzzlepiecewasstillmissing.anacplice?anitavanger?
fromthearchivessalandercouldseethatgottfriedvanger’spositionwithinthefirmhadchangedovertheyears.attheageoftwentyin1947,hemetisabellaandimmediatelygotherpregnant;martinvangerwasbornin1948,andwiththattherewasnoquestionbutthattheyoungpeoplewouldmarry.
whengottfriedwastwenty-two,hewasbroughtintothemainofficeofthevangercorporationbyhenrikvanger.hewasobviouslytalentedandtheymayhavebeengroominghimtotakeover.hewaspromotedtotheboardattheageoftwenty-five,astheassistantheadofthepany’sdevelopmentdivision.arisingstar.
sometimeinthemid-fiftieshisstarbegantoplummet.hedrank.hismarriagetoisabellawasontherocks.thechildren,harrietandmartin,werenotdoingwell.henrikdrewtheline.gottfried’scareerhadreacheditszenith.in1956anotherappointmentwasmade,anotherassistantheadofdevelopment.twoassistantheads:onewhodidtheworkwhilegottfrieddrankandwasabsentforlongperiodsoftime.
butgottfriedwasstillavanger,aswellascharmingandeloquent.from1957on,hisworkseemedtoconsistoftravellingaroundthecountrytoopenfactories,resolvelocalconflicts,andspreadanimagethatpanymanagementreallydidcare.we’resendingoutoneofourownsonstolistentoyourproblems.wedotakeyouseriously.
salanderfoundasecondconnection.gottfriedvangerhadparticipatedinanegotiationinkarlstad,wherethevangercorporationhadboughtatimberpany.onthefollowingdayafarmer’swife,magdalovisasj?berg,wasfoundmurdered.
salanderdiscoveredthethirdconnectionjustfifteenminuteslater.uddevalla,1962.thesamedaythatleaperssondisappeared,thelocalpaperhadinterviewedgottfriedvangeraboutapossibleexpansionoftheharbour.
whenfrulindgrenhadwantedtocloseupandgohomeat5:30,salanderhadsnappedatherthatshewasalongwayfromfinishedyet.shecouldgohomeaslongassheleftthekey,andsalanderwouldlockup.bythattimethearchivesmanagerwassoinfuriatedthatagirllikethisonecouldbossheraroundthatshecalledherrfrode.frodetoldherthatsalandercouldstayallnightifshewantedto.wouldfrulindgrenpleasenotifysecurityattheofficesothattheycouldletsalanderoutwhenshewantedtoleave?
threehourslater,gettingonfor8:30,salanderhadconcludedthatgottfriedvangerhadbeenclosetowhereatleastfiveoftheeightmurdersweremitted,eitherduringthedaysbeforeoraftertheevent.shewasstillmissingrmationaboutthemurdersin1949and1954.shestudiedanewspaperphotographofhim.aslim,handsomemanwithdarkblondhair;helookedratherlikeclarkgableingonewiththewind.
in1949gottfriedwastwenty-twoyearsold.thefirstmurdertookplaceinhishometerritory.hedestad.rebeckajacobsson,whoworkedatthevangercorporation.wheredidthetwoofyoumeet?whatdidyoupromiseher?
salanderbitherlip.theproblemwasthatgottfriedvangerhaddrownedwhenhewasdrunkin1965,whilethelastmurderwasmittedinuppsalainfebruary1966.shewonderedifshewasmistakenwhenshehadaddedlenaandersson,theseventeen-year-oldschoolgirl,tothelist.no.itmightnotbethesamesignature,butitwasthesamebibleparody.theymustbeconnected.
by9:00itwasgettingdark.theairwascoolanditwasdrizzling.mikaelwassittinginthekitchen,drumminghisfingersonthetable,whenmartinvanger’svolvocrossedthebridgeandturnedouttowardsthepoint.thatsomehowbroughtmatterstoahead.
hedidnotknowwhatheshoulddo.hiswholebeingwasburningwithadesiretoaskquestions—toinitiateaconfrontation.itwascertainlynotasensibleattitudetohaveifhesuspectedmartinvangerofbeinganinsanemurdererwhohadkilledhissisterandagirlinuppsala,andwhohadalsoverynearlysueededinkillinghimtoo.butmartinwasalsoamag.andhedidnotknowthatblomkvistknew;hecouldgoandseehimwiththepretextthat…well,hewantedtoreturnthekeytogottfriedvanger’scabin.blomkvistlockedthedoorbehindhimandstrolledouttothepoint.
haraldvanger’shousewaspitchdark,asusual.inhenrik’shousethelightswereoffexceptinoneroomfacingthecourtyard.annahadgoobed.isabella’shousewasdark.ceciliawasn’tathome.thelightswereonupstairsinalexander’shouse,buttheywereoffinthetwohousesoupiedbypeoplewhowerenotmembersofthevangerfamily.hedidnotseeasoul.
hepausedirresolutelyoutsidemartinvanger’shouse,tookouthismobile,andpunchedinsalander’snumber.stillnoanswer.heturnedoffhismobilesothatitwouldnotstartringing.
therewerelightsondownstairs.blomkvistwalkedacrossthelawnandstoppedafewyardsfromthekitchenwindow,buthecouldseeno-one.hecontinuedonaroundthehouse,pausingateachwindow,buttherewasnosignofmartin.ontheotherhand,hediddiscoverthatthesmallsidedoorintothegaragewasslightlyopen.don’tbeadamnfool.buthecouldnotresistthetemptationtolook.
thefirstthinghesawonthecarpenter’sbenchwasanopenboxofammunitionforamooserifle.thenhesawtwogasolinecansonthefloorunderthebench.preparationsforanothernocturnalvisit,martin?
“ein,mikael.isawyouontheroad.”
blomkvist’sheartskippedabeat.slowlyheturnedhisheadandsawmartinvangerstandinginthedarkbyadoorleadingintothehouse.
“yousimplycouldn’tstayaway,couldyou?”
hisvoicewascalm,almostfriendly.
“hi,martin,”blomkvistsaid.
“ein,”martinrepeated.“thisway.”
hetookastepforwardandtotheside,holdingouthislefthandinaninvitinggesture.heraisedhisrighthand,andblomkvistsawthereflectionofdullmetal.
“ihaveaglockinmyhand.don’tdoanythingstupid.atthisdistanceiwon’tmiss.”
blomkvistslowlymovedcloser.whenhereachedmartin,hestoppedandlookedhimintheeye.
“ihadtoehere.therearesomanyquestions.”
“iunderstand.throughthedoor.”
blomkvistenteredthehouse.thepassageledtothehallnearthekitchen,butbeforehegotthatfar,martinvangerstoppedhimbyputtingahandlightlyonblomkvist’sshoulder.
“no,notthatway.toyourright.openthedoor.”
thebasement.whenblomkvistwashalfwaydownthesteps,martinvangerturnedaswitchandthelightswenton.totherightofhimwastheboilerroom.aheadhecouldsmellthescentsoflaundry.martinguidedhimtotheleft,intoastorageroomwitholdfurnitureandboxes,atthebackofwhichwasasteelsecuritydoorwithadeadboltlock.
“here,”martinsaid,tossingakeyringtoblomkvist.“openit.”
heopenedthedoor.
“theswitchisontheleft.”
blomkvisthadopenedthedoortohell.
around9:00salanderwenttogetsomecoffeeandaplastic-wrappedsandwichfromthevendingmachineinthecorridoroutsidethearchives.shekeptonpagingthrougholddocuments,lookingforanytraceofgottfriedvangerinkalmarin1954.shefoundnothing.
shethoughtaboutcallingblomkvist,butdecidedtogothroughthestaffnewslettersbeforeshecalleditaday.
thespacewasapproximatelytenbytwentyfeet.blomkvistassumedthatitwassituatedalongthenorthsideofthehouse.
martinvangerhadcontrivedhisprivatetorturechamberwithgreatcare.ontheleftwerechains,metaleyeletsintheceilingandfloor,atablewithleatherstrapswherehecouldrestrainhisvictims.andthenthevideoequipment.atapingstudio.inthebackoftheroomwasasteelcageforhisguests.totherightofthedoorwasabench,abed,andatvcornerwithvideosonashelf.
assoonastheyenteredtheroom,martinvangeraimedthepistolatblomkvistandtoldhimtolieonhisstomachonthefloor.blomkvistrefused.
“verywell,”martinsaid.“theni’llshootyouinthekneecap.”
hetookaim.blomkvistcapitulated.hehadnochoice.
hehadhopedthatmartinwouldrelaxhisguardjustatenthofasecond—heknewhewouldwinanysortoffightwithhim.hehadhadhalfachanceinthepassageupstairswhenmartinputhishandonhisshoulder,buthehadhesitated.afterthatmartinhadnoteclose.withabulletinhiskneecaphewouldhavelosthischance.helaydownonthefloor.
martinapproachedfrombehindandtoldhimtoputhishandsonhisback.hehandcuffedhim.thenhekickedmikaelinthecrotchandpunchedhimviciouslyandrepeatedly.
whathappenedafterthatseemedlikeanightmare.martinswungbetweenrationalityandpurelunacy.foratimequitecalm,thenextinstanthewouldbepacingbackandforthlikeananimalinacage.hekickedblomkvistseveraltimes.allblomkvistcoulddowastrytoprotecthisheadandtaketheblowsinthesoftpartsofhisbody.
forthefirsthalfhourmartindidnotsayaword,andheappearedtobeincapableofanysortofmunication.afterthatheseemedtorecovercontrol.heputachainroundblomkvist’sneck,fasteningitwithapadlocktoametaleyeletonthefloor.heleftblomkvistaloneforaboutfifteenminutes.whenhereturned,hewascarryingalitrebottleofwater.hesatonachairandlookedatblomkvistashedrank.
“couldihavesomewater?”blomkvistsaid.
martinleaneddownandlethimtakeagoodlongdrinkfromthebottle.blomkvistswallowedgreedily.
“thanks.”
“stillsopolite,kalleblomkvist.”
“whyallthepunchingandkicking?”blomkvistsaid.
“becauseyoumakemeveryangryindeed.youdeservetobepunished.whydidn’tyoujustgohome?youwereneededatmillennium.iwasserious—wecouldhavemadeitintoagreatmagazine.wecouldhaveworkedtogetherforyears.”
blomkvistgrimacedandtriedtoshifthisbodyintoamorefortableposition.hewasdefenceless.allhehadwashisvoice.
“iassumeyoumeanthattheopportunityhaspassed,”blomkvistsaid.
martinvangerlaughed.
“i’msorry,mikael.but,ofcourse,youknowperfectlywellthatyou’regoingtodiedownhere.”
blomkvistnodded.
“howthehelldidyoufindme,youandthatanorexicspookthatyoudraggedintothis?”
“youliedaboutwhatyouweredoingonthedaythatharrietdisappeared.youwereinhedestadatthechildren’sdayparade.youwerephotographedthere,lookingatharriet.”
“wasthatwhyyouwenttonorsj??”
“togetthepicture,yes.itwastakenbyahoneymooncouplewhohappenedtobeinhedestad.”
heshookhishead.
“that’sacrasslie,”martinsaid.
blomkvistthoughthard:whattosaytopreventorpostponehisexecution.
“where’sthepicturenow?”
“thenegative?it’sinasafe-depositboxathandelsbankenhereinhedestad…youdidn’tknowthatihaveasafe-depositbox?”heliedeasily.“therearecopiesinvariousplaces.inmyputerandinthegirl’s,ontheserveratmillennium,andontheserveratmiltonsecurity,wherethegirlworks.”
martinwaited,tryingtoworkoutwhetherornotblomkvistwasbluffing.
“howmuchdoesthegirlknow?”
blomkvisthesitated.salanderwasrightnowhisonlyhopeofrescue.whatwouldshethinkwhenshecamehomeandfoundhimnotthere?hehadputthephotographofmartinvangerwearingthepaddedjacketonthekitchentable.wouldshemaketheconnection?wouldshesoundthealarm?sheisnotgoingtocallthepolice.thenightmarewasthatshewouldetomartinvanger’shouseandringthebell,demandingtoknowwhereblomkvistwas.
“answerme,”martinsaid,hisvoiceice-cold.
“i’mthinking.sheknowsalmostasmuchasido,maybeevenalittlemore.yes,iwouldreckonsheknowsmorethanido.she’sbright.she’stheonewhomadethelinktolenaandersson.”
“lenaandersson?”martinsoundedperplexed.
“thegirlyoutorturedandkilledinuppsalain1966.don’ttellmeyou’vefotten?”
“idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”butforthefirsttimehesoundedshaken.itwasthefirsttimethatanyonehadmadethatconnection—lenaanderssonwasnotincludedinharriet’sdate.
“martin,”blomkvistsaid,makinghisvoiceassteadyashecould.“it’sover.youcankillme,butit’sfinished.toomanypeopleknow.”
martinstartedpacingbackandforthagain.
ihavetorememberthathe’sirrational.thecat.hecouldhavebroughtthecatdownhere,buthewenttothefamilycrypt.martinstopped.
“ithinkyou’relying.youandsalanderaretheonlyoneswhoknowanything.youobviouslyhaven’ttalkedtoanyone,orthepolicewouldhavebeenherebynow.anicelittleblazeintheguestcottageandtheproofwillbegone.”
“andifyou’rewrong?”
“ifi’mwrong,thenitreallyisover.butidon’tthinkitis.i’llbetthatyou’rebluffing.andwhatotherchoicedoihave?i’llgivethatsomethought.it’sthatanorexiclittlecuntwho’stheweaklink.”
“shewenttostockholmatlunchtime.”
martinlaughed.
“bluffaway,mikael.shehasbeensittinginthearchivesatthevangercorporationofficesallevening.”
blomkvist’sheartskippedabeat.heknew.he’sknownallalong.
“that’sright.theplanwastovisitthearchiveandthengotostockholm,”blomkvistsaid.“ididn’tknowshestayedtheresolong.”
“stopallthiscrap,mikael.thearchivesmanagerrangtotellmethatdirchhadletthegirlstaythereaslateassheliked.whichmeansshe’llcertainlybehome.thenightwatchmanisgoingtocallmewhensheleaves.”
part4
hostiletakeover
july11todecember30
niy-twopercentofwomeninswedenwhohavebeensubjectedtosexualassaulthavenotreportedthemostrecentviolentincidenttothepolice.
chapter24
friday,july11–saturday,july12
martinvangerbentdownandwentthroughmikael’spockets.hetookthekey.
“smartofyoutochangethelock,”hesaid.“i’mgoingtotakecareofyourgirlfriendwhenshegetsback.”
blomkvistremindedhimselfthatmartinwasanegotiatorexperiencedfrommanyindustrialbattles.hehadalreadyseenthroughonebluff.
“why?”
“whywhat?”
“whyallofthis?”blomkvistgesturedvaguelyatthespacearoundhim.
martinbentdownandputonehandunderblomkvist’schin,liftinghisheadsotheireyesmet.
“becauseit’ssoeasy,”hesaid.“womendisappearallthetime.nobodymissesthem.immigrants.whoresfromrussia.thousandsofpeoplepassthroughswedeneveryyear.”
heletgoofblomkvist’sheadandstoodup.
martin’sword**blomkvistlikeapunchintheface.
christalmighty.thisisnohistoricalmystery.martinvangerismurderingwomentoday.andiwanderedrightintoit…
“asithappens,idon’thaveaguestrightnow.butitmightamuseyoutoknowthatwhileyouandhenriksataroundbabblingthiswinterandspring,therewasagirldownhere.irinafrombelarus.whileyousatandatedinnerwithme,shewaslockedupinthecagedownhere.itwasapleasanteveningasiremember,no?”
martinperchedonthetable,lettinghislegsdangle.blomkvistshuthiseyes.hesuddenlyfeltacidinhisthroatandheswallowedhard.thepaininhisgutandinhisribsseemedtoswell.
“whatdoyoudowiththebodies?”
“ihavemyboatatthedockrightbelowhere.itakethemalongwayouttosea.unlikemyfather,idon’tleavetraces.buthewassmarttoo.hespreadhisvictimsoutalloversweden.”
thepuzzlepieceswerefallingintoplace.
gottfriedvanger.from1949until1965.thenmartinvanger,startingin1966inuppsala.
“youadmireyourfather.”
“hewastheonewhotaughtme.heinitiatedmewheniwasfourteen.”
“uddevalla.leapersson.”
“aren’tyouclever?yes,iwasthere.ionlywatched,butiwasthere.”
“1964.sarawittinronneby.”
“iwassixteen.itwasthefirsttimeihadawoman.myfathertaughtme.iwastheonewhostrangledher.”
he’sbragging.goodlord,whatarevoltinglysickfamily.
“youcan’thaveanynotionofhowdementedthisis.”
“youareaveryordinarylittleperson,mikael.youwouldnotbeabletounderstandthegodlikefeelingofhavingabsolutecontroloversomeone’slifeanddeath.”
“youenjoytorturingandkillingwomen,martin.”
“idon’tthinksoreally.ifidoanintellectualanalysisofmycondition,i’mmoreofaserialrapistthanaserialmurderer.infact,mostofalli’maserialkidnapper.thekillingisanaturalconsequence,sotospeak,becauseihavetohidemycrime.
“ofcoursemyactionsaren’tsociallyaeptable,butmycrimeisfirstandforemostacrimeagainsttheconventionsofsociety.deathdoesn’teuntiltheendofmyguests’visitshere,afteri’vegrownwearyofthem.it’salwayssofascinatingtoseetheirdisappointment.”
“disappointment?”
“exactly.disappointment.theyimagihatiftheypleaseme,they’lllive.theyadapttomyrules.theystarttotrustmeanddevelopacertaincamaraderiewithme,hopingtotheveryendthatthiscamaraderiemeanssomething.thedisappointmenteswhenitfinallydawnsonthemthatthey’vebeenwellandtrulyscrewed.”
martinwalkedaroundthetableandleanedagainstthesteelcage.
“youwithyourbourgeoisconventionswouldnevergraspthis,buttheexcitementesfromplanningakidnapping.they’renotdoneonimpulse—thosekindsofkidnappersinvariablygetcaught.it’sasciencewiththousandsofdetailsthatihavetoweigh.ihavetoidentifymyprey,mapoutherlife,whoisshe,wheredoessheefrom,howcanimakecontactwithher,whatdoihavetodotobealonewithmypreywithoutrevealingmynameorhavingitturnupinanyfuturepoliceinvestigation?”
shutup,forgod’ssake,blomkvistthought.
“areyoureallyinterestedinallthis,mikael?”
hebentdownandstrokedblomkvist’scheek.thetouchwasalmosttender.
“yourealisethatthiscanonlyendoneway?willitbotheryouifismoke?”
“youcouldoffermeacigarette,”hesaid.
martinlittwocigarettesandcarefullyplacedoneofthembetweenblomkvist’slips,lettinghimtakealongdrag.
“thanks,”blomkvistsaid,automatically.
martinvangerlaughedagain.
“yousee.you’vealreadystartedtoadapttothesubmissionprinciple.iholdyourlifeinmyhands,mikael.youknowthaticandispatchyouatanysecond.youpleadedwithmetoimproveyourqualityoflife,andyoudidsobyusingreasonandalittlegoodmanners.andyouwererewarded.”
blomkvistnodded.hisheartwaspoundingsoharditwasalmostunbearable.
at11:15lisbethsalanderdranktherestofthewaterfromherpetbottleassheturnedthepages.unlikeblomkvist,whoearlierinthedayhadchokedonhiscoffee,shedidn’tgetthewaterdownthewrongway.ontheotherhand,shedidopenhereyeswidewhenshemadetheconnection.
click!
fortwohoursshehadbeenwadingthroughthestaffnewslettersfromallpointsofthepass.themainnewsletterwaspanyrmation.itborethevangerlogo—aswedishbannerflutteringinthewind,withthepointforminganarrow.thepublicationwaspresumablyputtogetherbythefirm’sadvertisingdepartment,anditwasfilledwithpropagandathatwassupposedtomaketheemployeesfeelthattheyweremembersofonebigfamily.
inassociationwiththewintersportsholidayinfebruary1967,henrikvanger,inamagnanimousgesture,hadinvitedfiftyemployeesfromthemainofficeandtheirfamiliestoaweek’sskiingholidayinh?rjedalen.thepanyhadmaderecordprofitsduringthepreviousyear.theprdepartmentwenttooandputtogetherapicturereport.
manyofthepictureswithamusingcaptionswerefromtheslopes.someshowedgroupsinthebar,withlaughingemployeeshoistingbeermugs.twophotographswereofasmallmorningfunctionwhenhenrikvangerproclaimedulla-brittmogrentobethebestofficeworkeroftheyear.shewasgivenabonusoffivehundredkronorandaglassbowl.
theceremonywasheldontheterraceofthehotel,clearlyrightbeforepeoplewerethinkingofheadingbacktotheslopes.abouttwentypeoplewereinthepicture.
onthefarright,justbehindhenrikvanger,stoodamanwithlongblondhair.hewaswearingadarkpaddedjacketwithadistinctivepatchattheshoulder.sincethepublicationwasinblack-and-white,thecolourwasn’tidentifiable,butsalanderwaswillingtobetherlifethattheshoulderpatchwasred.
thecaptionexplainedtheconnection.…farright,martinvanger,whoisstudyinginuppsala.heisalreadybeingdiscussedassomeonewithapromisingfutureinthepany’smanagement.
“gotcha,”salandersaidinalowvoice.
sheswitchedoffthedesklampandleftthenewslettersinpilesalloverthedesk—somethingforthatslutlindgrentotakecareoftomorrow.
shewentouttothecarparkthroughasidedoor.asitclosedbehindher,sherememberedthatshehadpromisedtotellthenightwatchmanwhensheleft.shestoppedandlethereyessweepoverthecarpark.thewatchman’sofficewasontheothersideofthebuilding.thatmeantthatshewouldhavetowalkallthewayroundtotheotherside.letsleepingdogslie,shedecided.
beforesheputonherhelmet,sheturnedonhermobileandcalledblomkvist’snumber.shegotamessagesayingthatthesubscribercouldnotbereached.butshealsosawthathehadtriedtocallhernofewerthanthirteentimesbetween3:30and9:00.inthelasttwohours,nocall.
salandertriedthecottagenumber,buttherewasnoanswer.shefrowned,strappedonherputer,putonherhelmet,andkick-startedthemotorcycle.theridefromthemainofficeattheentrancetohedestad’sindustrialdistrictouttohedebyislandtooktenminutes.alightwasoninthekitchen.
salanderlookedaround.herfirstthoughtwasthatblomkvisthadgooseefrode,butfromthebridgeshehadalreadynoticedthatthelightswereoffinfrode’shouseontheothersideofthewater.shelookedatherwatch:11:40.
shewentintothecottage,openedthewardrobe,andtookoutthetwopcsthatshewasusingtostorethesurveillancepicturesfromthecamerasshehadinstalled.ittookherawhiletorunupthesequenceofevents.
at15:32blomkvistenteredthecabin.
at16:03hetookhiscoffeecupouttothegarden.hehadafolderwithhim,whichhestudied.hemadethreebrieftelephonecallsduringthehourhespentoutinthegarden.thethreecallscorrespondedexactlytocallsshehadnotanswered.
at17:21blomkvistleftthecottage.hewasbacklessthanfifteenminuteslater.
at18:20hewenttothegateandlookedinthedirectionofthebridge.
at21:03hewentout.hehadnoteback.
salanderfast-forwardedthroughthepicturesfromtheotherpc,whichphotographedthegateandtheroadoutsidethefrontdoor.shecouldseewhohadgonepastduringtheday.
at19:12nilssoncamehome.
at19:42thesaabthatbelongedto?sterg?rdendrovetowardshedestad.
at20:02thesaabwasonitswayback.
at21:00martinvanger’scarwentby.threeminuteslaterblomkvistleftthehouse.
at21:50,martinvangerappearedinthecamera’sviewfinder.hestoodatthegateforoveraminute,lookingatthehouse,thenpeeringthroughthekitchenwindow.hewentuptotheporchandtriedthedoor,takingoutakey.hemusthavediscoveredthattheyhadputinanewlock.hestoodstillforamomentbeforeheturnedonhisheelandleftthehouse.
salanderfeltanice-coldfearinhergut.
martinvangeronceagainleftblomkvistalone.hewasstillinhisunfortablepositionwithhishandsbehindhisbackandhisneckfastenedbyathinchaintoaneyeletinthefloor.hefiddledwiththehandcuffs,butheknewthathewouldnotbeabletogetthemoff.thecuffsweresotightthathishandswerenumb.
hehadnochance.heshuthiseyes.
hedidnotknowhowmuchtimehadpassedwhenheheardmartin’sfootstepsagain.heappearedinblomkvist’sfieldofvision.helookedworried.
“unfortable?”hesaid.
“very,”saidblomkvist.
“you’veonlygotyourselftoblame.youshouldhavegonebacktostockholm.”
“whydoyoukill,martin?”
“it’sachoicethatimade.icoulddiscussthemoralandintellectualaspectsofwhatido;wecouldtalkallnight,butitwouldn’tchangeanything.trytolookatitthisway:ahumanbeingisashellmadeofskinkeepingthecells,blood,andchemicalponentsinplace.veryfewendupinthehistorys.mostpeoplesuumbanddisappearwithoutatrace.”
“youkillwomen.”
“thoseofuswhomurderforpleasure—i’mnottheonlyonewiththishobby—weliveapletelife.”
“butwhyharriet?yourownsister?”
inasecondmartingrabbedhimbythehair.
“whathappenedtoher,youlittlebastard?tellme.”
“whatdoyoumean?”blomkvistgasped.hetriedtoturnhisheadtolessenthepaininhisscalp.thechaintightenedroundhisneck.
“youandsalander.whathaveyoueupwith?”
“letgo,forheaven’ssake.we’retalking.”
martinvangerletgoofhishairandsatcross-leggedinfrontofblomkvist.hetookaknifefromhisjacketandopenedit.hesetthepointagainsttheskinjustbelowblomkvist’seye.blomkvistforcedhimselftomeetmartin’sgaze.
“whatthehellhappenedtoher,bastard?”
“idon’tunderstand.ithoughtyoukilledher.”
martinvangerstaredatblomkvistforalongmoment.thenherelaxed.hegotupandwanderedaroundtheroom,thinking.hethrewtheknifeonthefloorandlaughedbeforehecamebacktofaceblomkvist.
“harriet,harriet,alwaysharriet.wetried…totalktoher.gottfriedtriedtoteachher.wethoughtthatshewasoneofusandthatshewouldaeptherduty,butshewasjustanordinary…cunt.ihadherundercontrol,orsoithought,butshewasplanningtotellhenrik,andirealisedthaticouldn’ttrusther.soonerorlatershewasgoingtotellsomeoneaboutme.”
“youkilledher.”
“iwantedtokillher.ithoughtaboutit,butiarrivedtoolate.icouldn’tgetovertotheisland.”
blomkvist’sbrainwaswithdifficultytryingtoabsorbthisrmation,butitfeltasifamessagehadpoppedupwiththewordsrmationoverload.martinvangerdidnotknowwhathadhappenedtohissister.
allofasuddenmartinpulledhismobiletelephoneoutofhispocket,glancedatthedisplay,andputitonthechairnexttothepistol.
“it’stimetostopallthis.ihavetodisposeofyouranorexicbitchtonighttoo.”
hetookoutanarrowleatherstrapfromacupboardandslippeditaroundblomkvist’sneck,likeanoose.heloosenedthechainthatheldhimshackledtothefloor,hauledhimtohisfeet,andshovedhimtowardsthewall.heslippedtheleatherstrapthroughaloopaboveblomkvist’sheadandthentighteneditsothathewasforcedtostandontiptoes.
“isthattootight?canyoubreathe?”helooseneditanotchandlockedtheotherendofthestrapinplace,furtherdownthewall.“idon’twantyoutosuffocateallatonce.”
thenoosewascuttingsohardintoblomkvist’sthroatthathewasincapableofutteringaword.martinlookedathimattentively.
abruptlyheunzippedblomkvist’strousersandtuggedthemdown,alongwithhisboxershorts.ashepulledthemoff,blomkvistlosthisfootholdanddangledforasecondfromthenoosebeforehistoesagainmadecontactwiththefloor.martinwentovertoacupboardandtookoutapairofscissors.hecutoffblomkvist’st-shirtandtossedthebitsonthefloor.thenhetookupapositionsomedistanceawayfrommikaelandregardedhisvictim.
“i’veneverhadaboyinhere,”martinsaidinaseriousvoice.“i’venevertouchedanotherman,asamatteroffact…exceptformyfather.thatwasmyduty.”
blomkvist’stempleswerepounding.hecouldnotputhisweightonhisfeetwithoutbeingstrangled.hetriedtousehisfingerstogetagripontheconcretewallbehindhim,buttherewasnothingtoholdonto.
“it’stime,”martinvangersaid.
heputhishandonthestrapandpulleddown.blomkvistinstantlyfeltthenoosecuttingintohisneck.
“i’vealwayswonderedhowamantastes.”
heincreasedthepressureonthenooseandleanedforwardtokissblomkvistonthelipsatthesametimethatacoldvoicecutthroughtheroom.
“hey,you**ingcreep,inthis**holei’vegotamonopolyonthatone.”
blomkvistheardsalander’svoicethrougharedfog.hemanagedtofocushiseyesenoughtoseeherstandinginthedoorway.shewaslookingatmartinvangerwithoutexpression.
“no…run,”hecroaked.
hecouldnotseethelookonmartin’sface,buthecouldalmostphysicallyfeeltheshockwhenheturnedaround.forasecond,timestoodstill.thenmartinreachedforthepistolhehadleftonthechair.
salandertookthreeswiftstridesforwardandswungagolfclubshehadhiddenatherside.theironflewinawidearcandhitmartinonthecollarbonenearhisshoulder.theblowhadaterribleforce,andblomkvistheardsomethingsnap.martinhowled.
“doyoulikepain,creep?”salandersaid.
hervoicewasasroughassandpaper.aslongasblomkvistlived,hewouldneverfetherfaceasshewentontheattack.herteethwerebaredlikeabeastofprey.hereyeswereglittering,blackascoal.shemovedwiththelightningspeedofatarantulaandseemedtotallyfocusedonherpreyassheswungtheclubagain,strikingmartinintheribs.
hestumbledoverthechairandfell.thepistoltumbledtotheflooratsalander’sfeet.shekickeditaway.
thenshestruckforthethirdtime,justasmartinvangerwastryingtogettohisfeet.shehithimwithaloudsmackonthehip.ahorriblecryissuedfrommartin’sthroat.thefourthblowstruckhimfrombehind,betweentheshoulderblades.
“lis…uuth…”blomkvistgasped.
hewasabouttopassout,andthepaininhistempleswasalmostunbearable.
sheturnedtohimandsawthathisfacewasthecolourofatomato,hiseyeswereopenwide,andhistonguewaspoppingoutofhismouth.
shelookedaboutherandsawtheknifeonthefloor.thenshesparedaglanceatmartinvanger,whowastryingtocrawlawayfromher,onearmhanging.hewouldnotbemakinganytroubleforthenextfewseconds.sheletgoofthegolfclubandpickeduptheknife.ithadasharppointbutadulledge.shestoodonhertoesandfranticallysawedattheleatherstraptogetitoff.ittookseveralsecondsbeforeblomkvistsanktothefloor.butthenoosewaspulledtighterroundhisneck.
salanderlookedagainatmartinvanger.hewasonhisfeetbutdoubledover.shetriedtodigherfingersunderthenoose.atfirstshedidnotdarecutit,butfinallysheslippedthepointoftheknifeunderneath,scoringblomkvist’sneckasshetriedtoexpandthenoose.atlastitloosenedandblomkvisttookseveralshaky,wheezingbreaths.
foramomentblomkvisthadasensationofhisbodyandsouluniting.hehadperfectvisionandcouldmakeouteveryspeckofdustintheroom.hehadperfecthearingandregisteredeverybreath,everyrustleofclothing,asiftheywereenteringhisearsthroughaheadset,andhewasawareoftheodourofsalander’ssweatandthesmellofleatherfromherjacket.thentheillusionburstasbloodbeganstreamingtohishead.
salanderturnedherheadjustasmartinvangerdisappearedoutthedoor.shegotup,grabbedthepistol,checkedthemagazineandflickedoffthesafety.shelookedaroundandfocusedonthekeystothehandcuffs,whichlayinplainsightonthetable.
“i’mgoingtotakehim,”shesaid,runningforthedoor.shegrabbedthekeysasshepasse