The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (Millennium 3)

"That may not be such a bright idea," Nystrom said. "Why don't I just go and have a discreet talk with Prosecutor Ekstrom?"

"And if he gets difficult?"

"I don't think he will. He's ambitious and on the lookout for anything that will benefit his career. I might be able to use some leverage if I need to. He would hate to be dragged into any sort of scandal."

"Good. Stage two is Millennium and Mikael Blomkvist. That's why Clinton has returned to duty. This will require extraordinary measures."

"I don't think I'm going to like this," Wadensjoo said.

"Probably not. But Millennium can't be manipulated in the same straightforward way. On the other hand, the magazine is a threat because of one thing only: Bjorck's 1991 police report. I presume that the report now exists in two places, possibly three. Salander found the report, but Blomkvist somehow got ahold of it. Which means that there was some degree of contact between the two of them while Salander was on the run."

Clinton held up a finger and uttered his first words since he had arrived.

"It also tells us something about the character of our adversary. Blomkvist is not afraid to take risks. Remember the Wennerstrom affair."

Gullberg nodded. "Blomkvist gave the report to his editor in chief, Erika Berger, who in turn messengered it to Bublanski. So Berger has read it too. We have to assume that they made a copy for safekeeping. I'm guessing that Blomkvist has a copy and that there's one at the editorial offices."

"That sounds reasonable," Wadensjoo said.

"Millennium is a monthly, so they won't be publishing it tomorrow. We've got a little time--find out exactly how long before the next issue is published--but we have to confiscate both those copies of the police report. And we can't go through the prosecutor general."

"I understand."

"So we're talking about an operation, getting into Blomkvist's apartment and Millennium's offices. Can you handle that, Jonas?"

Sandberg glanced at Wadensjoo.

"Evert, you have to understand that we don't do things like that anymore," Wadensjoo said. "It's a new era. We deal more with computer hacking and electronic surveillance. We don't have the resources for what you'd think of as an operations unit."

Gullberg leaned forward. "Wadensjoo, you're going to have to arrange some resources pretty damn fast. Hire some people. Hire a bunch of skinheads from the Yugo mafia who can whack Blomkvist over the head if necessary. But those two copies have to be recovered. If they don't have the copies, they don't have the evidence. If you can't manage a simple job like that, then you might as well sit here with your thumb up your ass until the constitutional committee comes knocking on your door."

Gullberg and Wadensjoo glared at each other for a long moment.

"I can handle it," Sandberg said suddenly.

"Are you sure?"

Sandberg nodded.

"Good. Starting now, Clinton is your boss. He's the one you take your orders from."

Sandberg nodded his agreement.

"It's going to involve a lot of surveillance," Nystrom said. "I can suggest a few names. We have a man in the external organization, Martensson--he works as a bodyguard in SIS. He's fearless and shows promise. I've been considering bringing him in here. I've even thought that he could take my place one day."

"That sounds good," Gullberg said. "Clinton can decide."

"I'm afraid there might be a third copy," Nystrom said.

"Where?"

"This afternoon I found out that Salander has hired a lawyer. Her name is Annika Giannini. She's Blomkvist's sister."

Gullberg pondered this news. "You're right. Blomkvist will have given his sister a copy. He must have. In other words, we have to keep tabs on all three of them--Berger, Blomkvist, and Giannini--until further notice."

"I don't think we have to worry about Berger. There was a report today that she's going to be the new editor in chief at Svenska Morgon-Posten. She's finished with Millennium."

"Check her out anyway. As far as Millennium is concerned, we're going to need telephone taps and bugs in everyone's homes, and at the offices. We have to check their email. We have to know whom they meet and whom they talk to. And we would very much like to know what strategy they're planning. Above all, we have to get those copies of the report. A whole lot of stuff, in other words."

Wadensjoo sounded doubtful. "Evert, you're asking us to run an operation against an influential magazine and the editor in chief of SMP. That's just about the riskiest thing we could do."

"Understand this: you have no choice. Either you roll up your sleeves or it's time for somebody else to take over here."

The challenge hung like a cloud over the table.

"I think I can handle Millennium," Sandberg said at last. "But none of this solves the basic problem. What do we do with Zalachenko? If he talks, anything else we pull off is useless."

"I know. That's my part of the operation," Gullberg said. "I think I have an argument that will persuade Zalachenko to keep his mouth shut. But it's going to take some preparation. I'm leaving for Goteborg later this afternoon."

He paused and looked around the room. Then he fixed his eyes on Wadensjoo.

"Clinton will make the operational decisions while I'm gone," he said.

Not until Monday evening did Dr. Endrin decide, in consultation with her colleague Dr. Jonasson, that Salander's condition was stable enough for her to have visitors. First, two police inspectors were given fifteen minutes to ask her questions. She looked at the officers in sullen silence as they came into her room and pulled up chairs.

"Hello. My name is Marcus Erlander, criminal inspector. I work in the violent crimes division here in Goteborg. This is my colleague Inspector Modig from the Stockholm police."

Salander said nothing. Her expression did not change. She recognized Modig as one of the officers on Bublanski's team. Erlander gave her a cool smile.

"I've been told that you don't generally communicate much with the authorities. Let me put it on record that you do not have to say anything at all. But I would be grateful if you would listen to what we have to say. We have a number of things to discuss with you, but we don't have time to go into them all today. There'll be opportunities later."

Salander still said nothing.

"First of all, I'd like to let you know that your friend Mikael Blomkvist has told us that a lawyer by the name of Annika Giannini is willing to represent you, and that she knows about the case. He says that he already mentioned her name to you in connection with something else. I need you to confirm that this would be your intention. I'd also like to know if you want Giannini to come here to Goteborg, the better to represent you."

Annika Giannini. Blomkvist's sister. He had mentioned her in an email. Salander had not thought about the fact that she would need a lawyer.

"I'm sorry, but I have to insist that you answer the question. A yes or no will be fine. If you say yes, the prosecutor here in Goteborg will contact Advokat Giannini. If you say no, the court will appoint a defence lawyer on your behalf. Which do you prefer?"

Salander considered the choice. She assumed that she really would need a lawyer, but having Kalle Fucking Blomkvist's sister working for her was hard to stomach. On the other hand, some unknown lawyer appointed by the court would probably be worse. She rasped out a single word:

"Giannini."

"Good. Thank you. Now I have a question for you. You don't have to say anything before your lawyer gets here, but this question does not, as far as I can see, affect you or your welfare. The police are looking for a German citizen by the name of Ronald Niedermann, wanted for the murder of a policeman."

Salander frowned. She had no clue as to what had happened to Niederman after he ran from the woodshed.

"The Goteborg police are anxious to arrest him as soon as possible. My colleague here would like to question him also in connection with the three recent murders in Stockholm. You should know that you are no longer a suspect in those cases. So we are aski

ng for your help. Do you have any idea . . . can you give us any help at all in finding this man?"

Salander flicked her eyes suspiciously from Erlander to Modig and back.

They don't know that he's my brother.

Then she considered whether she wanted Niedermann caught or not. Most of all she wanted to take him to a hole in the ground in Gosseberga and bury him. Finally she shrugged. Which she should not have done, because pain flew through her left shoulder.

"What day is it today?" she said.

"Monday."