The Girl Who Played with Fire

by Stieg Larsson

Page 51

 

  He looked at Zalachenko's phone number and weighed the pros and cons of contacting him. He was incapable of making up his mind.

  Blomkvist had made a point, at every stage, of summing up his thinking on the investigation. When Paolo Roberto left, he spent an hour on the task. It had turned into a journal in which he let his thoughts run free while at the same time he meticulously wrote up every conversation and every meeting, as well as all the research he was doing. He encrypted the document using PGP and emailed copies to Berger and Eriksson, so that his colleagues were kept up to date.

  Svensson had concentrated on Zala in the last weeks of his life. The name had cropped up in his final telephone conversation with Blomkvist three hours before he was killed. Bjorck claimed to know something about Zala.

  Blomkvist ran through everything he had unearthed about Bjorck, which was not very much.

  Gunnar Bjorck was sixty-two years old, unmarried, born in Falun. Had been in the police force since he was twenty-one. Began as a patrol officer, but studied law and ended up in Sapo, the Security Police, when he was twenty-six or twenty-seven. That was in 1969 or 1970, just at the end of Per Gunnar Vinge's time as chief there.

  Vinge was dismissed after making the claim in a conversation with Ragnar Lassinanti, the governor of Norrbotten County, that Olof Palme was spying for the Russians. Then came the Internal Bureau affair, and Holmer, and the Letter Carrier, and the Palme assassination, and one scandal after another.

  Bjorck's career between 1970 and 1985 was largely undocumented, which was not so odd, since anything that had to do with Sapo activities was confidential. He could have been sharpening pencils in the stationery department or he could have been a secret agent in China.

  In October 1985 Bjorck moved to the Swedish Embassy in Washington for two years. In 1988, back with Sapo in Stockholm. In 1996 he became a public figure: appointed deputy bureau chief of the immigration division (whatever that entailed). After 1996 he made various statements to the media, in connection with the deportation of suspect Arabs, and drew particular attention in 1998 when several Iraqi diplomats were expelled.

  What does any of this have to do with Salander and the murders of Svensson and Johansson? Maybe nothing.

  But Bjorck knows about Zala.

  There has to be a connection.

  Berger told no-one, not even her husband, from whom she rarely kept secrets, that she was going to Svenska Morgon-Posten. She had about a month left at Millennium. The anxiety was getting to her. The days would rush by and suddenly she would be facing her last day there.

  She was also growing uneasy about Blomkvist. She had read his latest email with a sinking feeling. She recognized the signs. It was the same stubbornness that made him stick it out in Hedestad two years ago, the same obsessive determination with which he had gone after Wennerstrom. Since Maundy Thursday, nothing had existed for him but to find out who had murdered his friends and somehow to establish Salander's innocence.

  She fully sympathized with his objectives - Dag and Mia had been her friends too - but there was a side to Blomkvist that made her uncomfortable. He could become ruthless when he smelled blood.

  From the moment he had called her the day before and told her how he had challenged Bublanski and 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 Smådalaro.

  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. "

  "A burglary? There are hooligans who specialize in dead people's apartments -"

  "Not a burglary. I went through the apartment. All the valuables, DVD player and such, were still there. But Bjurman's car key was lying on the kitchen table. "

  "Car key?"

  "Jerker was in the apartment on Wednesday to check if we'd missed something. He also checked the car. He swears there wasn't a car key on the kitchen table when he left the apartment and put the tape back up. "

  "Could he have forgotten and left it out? Nobody's perfect. "

  "Jerker never used that key. He used the one on Bjurman's key ring, which we had already confiscated. "

  Bublanski stroked his chin. "So, not a normal break-in then. "

  "Someone got into Bjurman's apartment and sniffed around. It must have happened between Wednesday and Sunday evening, when the neighbour telephoned. "

  "Somebody was looking for something. What? Jerker?"

  "There's nothing of any interest left in there, nothing that we didn't already confiscate. "

  "Nothing that we know of, at least. The motive for the murder is still unclear. We assume that Salander is a psychopath, but even psychopaths need motives. "

  "What do you suggest?"

  "I don't know. Someone searched Bjurman's apartment. First question: Who? Second question: Why? What was it we missed?"

  "Jerker?"

  Holmberg gave a resigned sigh. "OK. I'll go through the apartment. This time with tweezers. "

  ***

  Salander woke up at 11:00 on Monday morning. She lay dozing for about half an hour before she got up, put on coffee, and took a shower. Then she made herself some breakfast and sat down at her PowerBook for an update on what was happening in Prosecutor Ekstrom's computer and to read the online editions of the papers. Interest in the Enskede murders had evidently declined. Then she opened Svensson's research folder and read through his notes from his meeting with the journalist Per-Åke Sandstrom, the john who ran errands for the sex mafia and who knew something about Zala. When she was finished, she poured herself more coffee and sat in her window seat to think.

  By 4:00 she had thought enough.

  She needed cash. She had three credit cards. One of them was in her own name and so for all practical purposes useless. One was issued to Irene Nesser, but she wanted to avoid using it since identifying herself with Irene Nesser's passport would be risky. One was issued to Wasp Enterprises and was linked to an account that held about three million kronor and could be replenished with transfers via the Internet. Anyone could use the card, but they would have to identify themselves.

  She went into the kitchen, opened a biscuit tin, and took out a wad of banknotes. She had 950 kronor in cash, not a whole lot. Fortunately she also had 1,800 American dollars that had been lying around since she returned from her travels; she could exchange them without ID at a Forex currency window. That improved the situation.

  She put on Irene Nesser's wig, dressed up, and put a change of clothes and a box of theatre makeup in a backpack. Then she set off on her second expedition from Mosebacke. She walked to Folkungagatan and then down to Erstagatan, and got to the Watski shop just before closing time. She bought electrical tape and a block and tackle with eight yards of cotton rope.

  She took the number 66 bus back. At Medborgarplatsen she saw a woman waiting for the bus. She did not recognize her at first, but an alarm went off in the back of her mind, and when she looked again she realized that the woman was Irene Flemstrom, the salaries clerk at Milton Security. She had a new, trendier hairdo. Salander slipped off the bus as Flemstrom got on. She looked around carefully, searching as always for faces that might be familiar. She walked past the semicircular Bofills Båge apartment building to Sodra station and took the local train north.