CHAPTER 18
Thursday, 2. vi
Berger’s mobile was ringing. It was 9.05.
“Good morning, Fru Berger. Dragan Armansky. I
understand you called last night.”
Berger explained what had happened and asked whether
Milton Security could take over the contract from Nacka
Integrated Protection.
“We can certainly install an alarm that will work,” Armansky
said. “The problem is that the closest car we have at night
is in Nacka centre. Response time would be about thirty
minutes. If we took the job I’d have to subcontract out your
house. We have an agreement with a local security
company, Adam Security in Fisksätra, which has a
response time of ten minutes if all goes as it should.”
“That would be an improvement on N.I.P., which doesn’t
bother to turn up at all.”
“It’s a family-owned business, a father, two sons, and a
couple of cousins. Greeks, good people. I’ve known the
father for many years. They handle coverage about 320
days a year. They tell us in advance the days they aren’t
available because of holidays or something else, and then
our car in Nacka takes over.”
“That works for me.”
“I’ll be sending a man out this morning. His name is David
Rosin, and in fact he’s already on his way. He’s going to do
a security assessment. He needs your keys if you’re not
going to be home, and he needs your authorization to do a
thorough examination of your house, from top to bottom.
He’s going to take pictures of the entire property and the
immediate surroundings.”
“Alright.”
“Rosin has a lot of experience, and we’ll make you a
proposal. We’ll have a complete security plan ready in a
few days which will include a personal attack alarm, fire
security, evacuation and break-in protection.”
“O.K.”
“If anything should happen, we also want you to know what
to do in the ten minutes before the car arrives from
Fisksätra.”
“Sounds good.”
“We’ll install the alarm this afternoon. Then we’ll have to
sign a contract.”
Only after she had finished her conversation with Armansky
did Berger realize that she had overslept. She picked up
her mobile to call Fredriksson and explained that she had
hurt herself. He would have to cancel the 10.00.
“What’s happened?” he said.
“I cut my foot,” Berger said. “I’ll hobble in as soon as I’ve
pulled myself together.”
She used the toilet in the master bathroom and then pulled
on some black trousers and borrowed one of Greger’s
on some black trousers and borrowed one of Greger’s
slippers for her injured foot. She chose a black blouse and
put on a jacket. Before she removed the doorstop from the
bedroom door, she armed herself with the canister of
Mace.
She made her way cautiously through the house and
switched on the coffeemaker. She had her breakfast at the
kitchen table, listening out for sounds in the vicinity. She
had just poured a second cup of coffee when there was a
firm knock on the front door. It was David Rosin from Milton
Security.
Figuerola walked to Bergsgatan and summoned her four
colleagues for an early morning conference.
“We’ve got a deadline now,” she said. “Our work has to be
done by July 13, the day the Salander trial begins. We
have just under six weeks. Let’s agree on what’s most
important right now. Who wants to go first?”
Berglund cleared his throat. “The blond man with
Mårtensson. Who is he?”
“We have photographs, but no idea how to find him. We
can’t put out an A.P.B.”
“What about Gullberg, then? There must be a story to
track down there. We have him in the Secret State Police
from the early ’50s to 1964, when S.I.S. was founded. Then
from the early ’50s to 1964, when S.I.S. was founded. Then
he vanishes.”
Figuerola nodded.
“Should we conclude that the Zalachenko club was an
association formed in 1964? That would be some time
before Zalachenko even came to Sweden.”
“There must have been some other purpose … a secret
organization within the organization.”
“That was after Stig Wennerström. Everyone was paranoid.
”
“A sort of secret spy police?”
“There are in fact parallels overseas. In the States a
special group of internal spy chasers was created within
the C.I.A. in the ’60s. It was led by a James Jesus Angleton,
and it very nearly sabotaged the entire C.I.A. Angleton’s
gang were as fanatical as they were paranoid – they
suspected everyone in the C.I.A. of being a Russian agent.
As a result the agency’s effectiveness in large areas was
paralysed.”
“But that’s all speculation …”
“Where are the old personnel files kept?”
“Gullberg isn’t in them. I’ve checked.”
“But what about a budget? An operation like this has to be
financed.”
The discussion went on until lunchtime, when Figuerola
excused herself and went to the gym for some peace, to
think things over.
Berger did not arrive in the newsroom until lunchtime. Her
foot was hurting so badly that she could not put any weight
on it. She hobbled over to her glass cage and sank into
her chair with relief. Fredriksson looked up from his desk
and she waved him in.
“What happened?” he said.
“I trod on a piece of glass and a shard lodged in my heel.”
“That … wasn’t so good.”
“No. It wasn’t good. Peter, has anyone received any more
weird emails?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“O.K. Keep your ears open. I want to know if anything odd
happens around S.M.P.”
“What sort of odd?”
“I’m afraid some idiot is sending really vile emails and he
seems to have targeted me. So I want to know if you hear
of anything going on.”
“The type of email Eva Carlsson got?”
“Right, but anything strange at all. I’ve had a whole string
of crazy emails accusing me of being all kinds of things –
and suggesting various perverse things that ought to be
done to me.”
Fredriksson’s expression darkened. “How long has this
been going on?”
“A couple of weeks. Keep your eyes peeled … So tell me,
what’s going to be in the paper tomorrow?”
“Well …”
“Well, what?”
“Holm and the head of the legal section are on the
warpath.”
“Why is that?”
“Because of Frisk. You extended his contract and gave him
a feature assignment. And he won’t tell anybody what it’s
a feature assignment. And he won’t tell anybody what it’s
about.”
“He is forbidden to talk about it. My orders.”
“That’s what he says. Which means that Holm and the legal
editor are up in arms.”
“I can see that they might be. Set up a meeting with legal at
3.00. I’ll explain the situation.”
“Holm is not best pleased—”
“I’m not best pleased with Holm, so we’re all square.”
“He’s so upset that he’s complained to the board.”
Berger looked up. Damn it. I’m going to have to face up to
the Borgsjö problem.
“Borgsjö is coming in this afternoon and wants a meeting
with you. I suspect it’s Holm’s doing.”
“O.K. What time?”
“2.00,” said Fredriksson, and he went back to his desk to
write the midday memo.
Jonasson visited Salander during her lunch. She pushed
away a plate of the health authority’s vegetable stew. As
away a plate of the health authority’s vegetable stew. As
always, he did a brief examination of her, but she noticed
that he was no longer putting much effort into it.
“You’ve recovered nicely,” he said.
“Hmm. You’ll have to do something about the food at this
place.”
“What about it?”
“Couldn’t you get me a pizza?”
“Sorry. Way beyond the budget.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Lisbeth, we’re going to have a discussion about the state
of your health tomorrow—”
“Understood. And I’ve recovered nicely.”
“You’re now well enough to be moved to Kronoberg prison.
I might be able to postpone the move for another week, but
my colleagues are going to start wondering.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m ready. And it had to happen sooner or
later.”
“I’ll give the go-ahead tomorrow, then,” Jonasson said.
“You’ll probably be transferred pretty soon.”
She nodded.
“It might be as early as this weekend. The hospital
administration doesn’t want you here.”
“Who could blame them.”
“Er … that device of yours—”
“I’ll leave it in the recess behind the table here.” She
pointed.
“Good idea.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Jonasson stood
up.
“I have to check on my other patients.”
“Thanks for everything. I owe you one.”
“Just doing my job.”
“No. You’ve done a great deal more. I won’t forget it.”
Blomkvist entered police headquarters on Kungsholmen
through the entrance on Polhemsgatan. Figuerola
accompanied him up to the offices of the Constitutional
Protection Unit. They exchanged only silent glances in the
lift.
“Do you think it’s such a good idea for me to be hanging
around at police H.Q.?” Blomkvist said. “Someone might
see us together and start to wonder.”
“This will be our only meeting here. From now on we’ll meet
in an office we’ve rented at Fridhemsplan. We get access
tomorrow. But this will be O.K. Constitutional Protection is a
small and more or less self-sufficient unit, and nobody else
at S.I.S. cares about it. And we’re on a different floor from
the rest of Säpo.”
He greeted Edklinth without shaking hands and said hello
to two colleagues who were apparently part of his team.
They introduced themselves only as Stefan and Anders. He
smiled to himself.
“Where do we start?” he said.
“We could start by having some coffee … Monica?”
Edklinth said.
“Thanks, that would be nice,” Figuerola said.
Edklinth had probably meant for her to serve the coffee.
Blomkvist noticed that the chief of the Constitutional
Protection Unit hesitated for only a second before he got
up and brought the thermos over to the conference table,
where place settings were already laid out. Blomkvist saw
that Edklinth was also smiling to himself, which he took to
be a good sign. Then Edklinth turned serious.
“I honestly don’t know how I should be managing this. It
must be the first time a journalist has sat in on a meeting of
the Security Police. The issues we’ll be discussing now are
in very many respects confidential and highly classified.”
“I’m not interested in military secrets. I’m only interested in
the Zalachenko club.”
“But we have to strike a balance. First of all, the names of
today’s participants must not be mentioned in your articles.
”
“Agreed.”
Edklinth gave Blomkvist a look of surprise.
“Second, you may not speak with anyone but myself and
Monica Figuerola. We’re the ones who will decide what we
can tell you.”
“If you have a long list of requirements, you should have
mentioned them yesterday.”
mentioned them yesterday.”
“Yesterday I hadn’t yet thought through the matter.”
“Then I have something to tell you too. This is probably the
first and only time in my professional career that I will
reveal the contents of an unpublished story to a police
officer. So, to quote you … I honestly don’t know how I
should be managing this.”
A brief silence settled over the table.
“Maybe we—”
“What if we—”
Edklinth and Figuerola had started talking at the same time
before falling silent.
“My target is the Zalachenko club,” Blomkvist said. “You
want to bring charges against the Zalachenko club. Let’s
stick to that.”
Edklinth nodded.
“So, what have you got?” Blomkvist said.
Edklinth explained what Figuerola and her team had
unearthed. He showed Blomkvist the photograph of Evert
Gullberg with Colonel Wennerström.
Gullberg with Colonel Wennerström.
“Good. I’ll have a copy of that.”
“It’s in Åhlen’s archive,” Figuerola said.
“It’s on the table in front of me. With text on the back,”
Blomkvist said.
“Give him a copy,” Edklinth said.
“That means that Zalachenko was murdered by the
Section.”
“Murder, coupled with the suicide of a man who was dying
of cancer. Gullberg’s still alive, but the doctors don’t give
him more than a few weeks. After his suicide attempt he
sustained such severe brain damage that he is to all
intents and purposes a vegetable.”
“And he was the person with primary responsibility for
Zalachenko when he defected.”
“How do you know that?”
“Gullberg met Prime Minister Fälldin six weeks after
Zalachenko’s defection.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I can. The visitors’ log of the government Secretariat.
Gullberg arrived together with the then chief of S.I.S.”
“And the chief has since died.”
“But Fälldin is alive and willing to talk about the matter.”
“Have you—”
“No, I haven’t. But someone else has. I can’t give you the
name. Source protection.”
Blomkvist explained how Fälldin had reacted to the
information about Zalachenko and how he had travelled to
the Hague to interview Janeryd.
“So the Zalachenko club is somewhere in this building,”
Blomkvist said, pointing at the photograph.
“Partly. We think it’s an organization inside the
organization. What you call the Zalachenko club cannot
exist without the support of key people in this building. But
we think that the so-called Section for Special Analysis set
up shop somewhere outside.”
“So that’s how it works? A person can be employed by
Säpo, have his salary paid by Säpo, and then in fact report
to another employer?”
“Something like that.”
“So who in the building is working for the Zalachenko club?
”
“We don’t know yet. But we have several suspects.”
“Mårtensson,” Blomkvist suggested.
Edklinth nodded.
“Mårtensson works for Säpo, and when he’s needed by the
Zalachenko club he’s released from his regular job,”
Figuerola said.
“How does that work in practice?”
“That’s a very good question,” Edklinth said with a faint
smile. “Wouldn’t you like to come and work for us?”
“Not on your life,” Blomkvist said.
“I jest, of course. But it’s a good question. We have a
suspect, but we’re unable to verify our suspicions just yet.”
“Let’s see … it must be someone with administrative
authority.”
“We suspect Chief of Secretariat Albert Shenke,” Figuerola
said.
said.
“And here we are at our first stumbling block,” Edklinth
said. “We’ve given you a name, but we have no proof. So
how do you intend to proceed?”
“I can’t publish a name without proof. If Shenke is innocent
he would sue Millennium for libel.”
“Good. Then we are agreed. This co-operative effort has
to be based on mutual trust. Your turn. What have you
got?”
“Three names,” Blomkvist said. “The first two were
members of the Zalachenko club in the ’80s.”
Edklinth and Figuerola were instantly alert.
“Hans von Rottinger and Fredrik Clinton. Von Rottinger is
dead. Clinton is retired. But both of them were part of the
circle closest to Zalachenko.”
“And the third name?” Edklinth said.
“Teleborian has a link to a person I know only as Jonas. We
don’t know his last name, but we do know that he was with
the Zalachenko club in 2005 … We’ve actually speculated
a bit that he might be the man with Mårtensson in the
pictures from Café Copacabana.”
“And in what context did the name Jonas crop up?”
Salander hacked Teleborian’s computer, and we can follow
the correspondence that shows how Teleborian is
conspiring with Jonas in the same way he conspired with
Björck in 1991.
“He gives Teleborian instructions. And now we come to
another stumbling block,” Blomkvist said to Edklinth with a
smile. “I can prove my assertions, but I can’t give you the
documentation without revealing a source. You’ll have to
accept what I’m saying.”
Edklinth looked thoughtful.
“Maybe one of Teleborian’s colleagues in Uppsala. O.K.
Let’s start with Clinton and von Rottinger. Tell us what you
know.”
*
Borgsjö received Berger in his office next to the
boardroom. He looked concerned.
“I heard that you hurt yourself,” he said, pointing to her
foot.
“It’ll pass,” Berger said, leaning her crutches against his
desk as she sat down in the visitor’s chair.
“Well … that’s good. Erika, you’ve been here a month and I
want us to have a chance to catch up. How do you feel it’s
going?”
I have to discuss Vitavara with him. But how? When?
“I’ve begun to get a handle on the situation. There are two
sides to it. On the one hand, S.M.P. has financial problems
and the budget is strangling the newspaper. On the other,
S.M.P. has a huge amount of dead meat in the newsroom.”
“Aren’t there any positive aspects?”
“Of course there are. A whole bunch of experienced
professionals who know how to do their jobs. The problem
is the ones who won’t let them do their jobs.”
“Holm has spoken to me …”
“I know.”
Borgsjö looked puzzled. “He has a number of opinions
about you. Almost all of them are negative.”
“That’s O.K. I have a number of opinions about him too.”
“Negative too? It’s no good if the two of you can’t work
together—”
“I have no problem working with him. But he does have a
problem with me.” Berger sighed. “He’s driving me nuts.
He’s very experienced and doubtless one of the most
competent news chiefs I’ve come across. At the same time
he’s a bastard of exceptional proportions. He enjoys
indulging in intrigue and playing people against each other.
I’ve worked in the media for twenty-five years and I have
never met a person like him in a management position.”
“He has to be tough to handle the job. He’s under pressure
from every direction.”
“Tough … by all means. But that doesn’t mean he has to
behave like an idiot. Unfortunately Holm is a walking
disaster, and he’s one of the chief reasons why it’s almost
impossible to get the staff to work as a team. He takes
divide-and-rule as his job description.”
“Harsh words.”
“I’ll give him one month to sort out his attitude. If he hasn’t
managed it by then, I’m going to remove him as news
editor.”
“You can’t do that. It’s not your job to take apart the
operational organization.”
Berger studied the chairman of the board.
“Forgive me for pointing this out, but that was exactly why
you hired me. We also have a contract which explicitly
gives me free rein to make the editorial changes I deem
necessary. My task here is to rejuvenate the newspaper,
and I can do that only by changing the organization and
the work routines.”
“Holm has devoted his life to S.M.P.”
“Right. And he’s fifty-eight with six years to go before
retirement. I can’t afford to keep him on as a dead weight
all that time. Don’t misunderstand me, Magnus. From the
moment I sat down in that glass cage, my life’s goal has
been to raise S.M.P.’s quality as well as its circulation
figures. Holm has a choice: either he can do things my way,
or he can do something else. I’m going to bulldoze anyone
who is obstructive or who tries to damage S.M.P. in some
other way.”
Damn … I’ve got to bring up the Vitavara thing. Borgsjö is
going to be fired.
Suddenly Borgsjö smiled. “By God, I think you’re pretty
tough too.”
“Yes, I am, and in this case it’s regrettable since it shouldn’t
be necessary. My job is to produce a good newspaper, and
I can do that only if I have a management that functions
and colleagues who enjoy their work.”
and colleagues who enjoy their work.”
After the meeting with Borgsjö, Berger limped back to the
glass cage. She felt depressed. She had been with Borgsjö
for forty-five minutes without mentioning one syllable about
Vitavara. She had not, in other words, been particularly
straight or honest with him.
When she sat at her computer she found a message from
MikBlom@millennium.nu>. She knew perfectly well that no
such address existed at Millennium. She opened the email:
YOU THINK THAT BORGSJÖ CAN SAVE YOU,
YOU LITTLE WHORE. HOW DOES YOUR
FOOT FEEL?
She raised her eyes involuntarily and looked out across
the newsroom. Her gaze fell on Holm. He looked back at
her. Then he smiled.
It can only be someone at S.M.P.
The meeting at the Constitutional Protection Unit lasted
until after 5.00, and they agreed to have another meeting
the following week. Blomkvist could contact Figuerola if he
needed to be in touch with S.I.S. before then. He packed
away his laptop and stood up.
“How do I get out of here?” he asked.
“You certainly can’t go running around on your own,”
Edklinth said.
“I’ll show him out,” Figuerola said. “Give me a couple of
minutes, I just have to pick up a few things from my office.”
They walked together through Kronoberg park towards
Fridhemsplan.
“So what happens now?” Blomkvist said.
“We stay in touch,” Figuerola said.
“I’m beginning to like my contact with Säpo.”
“Do you feel like having dinner later?”
“Bosnian again?”
“No, I can’t afford to eat out every night. I was thinking of
something simple at my place.”
She stopped and smiled at him.
“Do you know what I’d like to do now?” she said.
“No.”
“I’d like to take you home and undress you.”
“This could get a bit awkward.”
“I know. But I hadn’t thought of telling my boss.”
“We don’t know how this story’s going to turn out. We could
end up on opposite sides of the barricades.”
“I’ll take my chances. Now, are you going to come quietly or
do I have to handcuff you?”
The consultant from Milton Security was waiting for Berger
when she got home at around 7.00. Her foot was throbbing
painfully, and she limped into the kitchen and sank on to
the nearest chair. He had made coffee and he poured her
some.
“Thanks. Is making coffee part of Milton’s service
agreement?”
He gave her a polite smile. David Rosin was a short, plump
man in his fifties with a reddish goatee. “Thanks for letting
me borrow your kitchen today.”
“It’s the least I could do. What’s the situation?”
“Our technicians were here and installed a proper alarm. I’ll
show you how it works in a minute. I’ve also gone over
every inch of your house from the basement to the attic
every inch of your house from the basement to the attic
and studied the area around it. I’ll review your situation with
my colleagues at Milton, and in a few days we’ll present an
assessment that we’ll go over with you. But before that
there are one or two things we ought to discuss.”
“Go ahead.”
“First of all, we have to take care of a few formalities. We’ll
work out the final contract later – it depends what services
we agree on – but this is an agreement saying that you’ve
commissioned Milton Security to install the alarm we put in
today. It’s a standard document saying that we at Milton
require certain things of you and that we commit to certain
things, client confidentiality and so forth.”
“You require things of me?”
“Yes. An alarm is an alarm and is completely pointless if
some nutcase is standing in your living room with an
automatic weapon. For the security to work, we want you
and your husband to be aware of certain things and to take
certain routine measures. I’ll go over the details with you.”
“O.K.”
“I’m jumping ahead and anticipating the final assessment,
but this is how I view the general situation. You and your
husband live in a detached house. You have a beach at
the back of the house and a few large houses in the
the back of the house and a few large houses in the
immediate vicinity. Your neighbours do not have an
unobstructed view of your house. It’s relatively isolated.”
“That’s correct.”
“Therefore an intruder would have a good chance of
approaching your house without being observed.”
“The neighbours on the right are away for long periods,
and on the left is an elderly couple who go to bed quite
early.”
“Precisely. In addition, the houses are positioned with their
gables facing each other. There are few windows, and so
on. Once an intruder comes on to your property – and it
takes only five seconds to turn off the road and arrive at
the rear of the house – then the view is completely
blocked. The rear is screened by your hedge, the garage,
and that large freestanding building.”
“That’s my husband’s studio.”
“He’s an artist, I take it?”
“That’s right. Then what?”
“Whoever smashed your window and sprayed your outside
wall was able to do so undisturbed. There might have been
some risk that the sound of the breaking window would be
heard and someone might have reacted … but your house
sits at an angle and the sound was deflected by the
facade.”
“I see.”
“The second thing is that you have a large property here
with a living area of approximately 250 square metres, not
counting the attic and basement. That’s eleven rooms on
two floors.”
“The house is a monster. It’s my husband’s old family
home.”
“There are also a number of different ways to get into the
house. Via the front door, the balcony at the back, the
porch on the upper floor, and the garage. There are also
windows on the ground floor and six basement windows
that were left without alarms by our predecessors. Finally, I
could break in by using the fire escape at the back of the
house and entering through the roof hatch leading to the
attic. The trapdoor is secured by nothing more than a
latch.”
“It sounds as if there are revolving doors into the place.
What do we have to do?”
“The alarm we installed today is temporary. We’ll come
back next week and do the proper installation with alarms
back next week and do the proper installation with alarms
on every window on the ground floor and in the basement.
That’s your protection against intruders in the event that
you and your husband are away.”
“That’s good.”
“But the present situation has arisen because you have
been subject to a direct threat from a specific individual.
That’s much more serious. We don’t know who this person
is, what his motives are, or how far he’s willing to go, but we
can make a few assumptions. If it were just a matter of
anonymous hate mail we would make a decreased threat
assessment, but in this case a person has actually taken
the trouble to drive to your house – and it’s pretty far to
Saltsjöbaden – to carry out an attack. That is worrisome.”
“I agree with you there.”
“I talked with Dragan today, and we’re of the same mind:
until we know more about the person making the threat, we
have to play it safe.”
“Which means—”
“First of all, the alarm we installed today contains two
components. On the one hand it’s an ordinary burglar
alarm which is on when you’re not at home, but it’s also a
sensor for the ground floor that you’ll have to turn on when
you’re upstairs at night.”
you’re upstairs at night.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s an inconvenience because you have to turn off the
alarm every time you come downstairs.”
“I’ve got you.”
“Second, we changed your bedroom door today.”
“You changed the whole door?”
“Yes. We installed a steel safety door. Don’t worry … it’s
painted white and looks just like a normal bedroom door.
The difference is that it locks automatically when you close
it. To open the door from the inside you just have to press
down the handle as on any normal door. But to open the
door from the outside, you have to enter a three-digit code
on a plate on the door handle.”
“And you’ve done all this today …”
“If you’re threatened in your home then you have a safe
room into which you can barricade yourself. The walls are
sturdy and it would take quite a while to break down that
door even if your assailant had tools at hand.”
“That’s a comfort.”
“Third, we’re going to install surveillance cameras, so that
you’ll be able to see what’s going on in the garden and on
the ground floor when you’re in the bedroom. That will be
done later this week, at the same time as we install the
movement detectors outside the house.”
“It sounds like the bedroom won’t be such a romantic place
in the future.”
“It’s a small monitor. We can put it inside a wardrobe or a
cabinet so that it isn’t in full view.”
“Thank you.”
“Later in the week I’ll change the doors in your study and in
a downstairs room too. If anything happens you should
quickly seek shelter and lock the door while you wait for
assistance.”
“Alright.”
“If you trip the burglar alarm by mistake, then you’ll have to
call Milton’s alarm centre immediately to cancel the
emergency vehicle. To cancel it you’ll have to give a
password that will be registered with us. If you forget the
password, the emergency vehicle will come out anyway and
you’ll be charged a fee.”
“Understood.”
“Fourth, there are now attack alarms in four places inside
the house. Here in the kitchen, in the hall, in your study
upstairs, and in your bedroom. The attack alarm consists
of two buttons that you press simultaneously and hold
down for three seconds. You can do it with one hand, but
you can’t do it by mistake. If the attack alarm is sounded,
three things will happen. First, Milton will send cars out
here. The closest car will come from Adam Security in
Fisksätra. Two strong men will be here in ten to twelve
minutes. Second, a car from Milton will come down from
Nacka. For that the response time is at best twenty minutes
but more likely twenty-five. Third, the police will be alerted
automatically. In other words, several cars will arrive at the
scene within a short time, a matter of minutes.”
“O.K.”
“An attack alarm can’t be cancelled the same way you
would cancel the burglar alarm. You can’t call and say that
it was a mistake. Even if you meet us in the driveway and
say it was a mistake, the police will enter the house. We
want to be sure that nobody’s holding a gun to your
husband’s head or anything like that. So you use the
attack alarm, obviously, only when there is real danger.”
“I understand.”
“It doesn’t have to be a physical attack. It could be if
someone is trying to break in or turns up in the garden or
something like that. If you feel threatened in any way, you
should set off the alarm, but use your good judgement.”
“I promise.”
“I notice that you have golf clubs planted here and there
around the house.”
“Yes. I slept here alone last night.”
“I myself would have checked into a hotel. I have no
problem with you taking safety precautions on your own.
But you ought to know that you could easily kill an intruder
with a golf club.”
“Hmm.”
“And if you did that, you would most probably be charged
with manslaughter. If you admitted that you put golf clubs
around the place with the intent of arming yourself, it could
also be classified as murder.”
“If someone attacks me then the chances are that I do
intend to bash in that person’s skull.”
“I understand you. But the point of hiring Milton Security is
so that you have an alternative to doing that. You should
be able to call for help, and above all you shouldn’t end up
be able to call for help, and above all you shouldn’t end up
in a situation where you have to bash in someone’s skull.”
“I’m only too happy to hear it.”
“And, by the way, what would you do with the golf clubs if
an intruder had a gun? The key to good security is all
about staying one step ahead of anyone who means you
harm.”
“Tell me how I’m supposed to do that if I have a stalker after
me?”
“You see to it that he never has a chance to get close to
you. Now, we won’t be finished with the installations here
for a couple of days, and then we’ll also have to have a talk
with your husband. He’ll have to be as safety-conscious as
you are.”
“He will be.”
“Until then I’d rather you didn’t stay here.”
“I can’t move anywhere else. My husband will be home in a
couple of days. But both he and I travel fairly often, and
one or other of us has to be here alone from time to time.”
“I understand. But I’m only talking about a couple of days
until we have all the installations ready. Isn’t there a friend
you could stay with?”
you could stay with?”
Berger thought for a moment about Blomkvist’s apartment
but remembered that just now it was not such a good idea.
“Thanks, but I’d rather stay here.”
“I was afraid of that. In that case, I’d like you to have
company here for the rest of the week.”
“Well …”
“Do you have a friend who could come and stay with you?”
“Sure. But not at 7.30 in the evening if there’s a nutcase on
the prowl outside.”
Rosin thought for a moment. “Do you have anything
against a Milton employee staying here? I could call and
find out if my colleague Susanne Linder is free tonight. She
certainly wouldn’t mind earning a few hundred kronor on
the side.”
“What would it cost exactly?”
“You’d have to negotiate that with her. It would be outside
all our formal agreements. But I really don’t want you to
stay here alone.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“I didn’t think you were or you wouldn’t have slept here last
night. Susanne Linder is also a former policewoman. And
it’s only temporary. If we had to arrange for bodyguard
protection that would be a different matter – and it would
be rather expensive.”
Rosin’s seriousness was having an effect. It dawned on her
that here he was calmly talking of the possibility of there
being a threat to her life. Was he exaggerating? Should
she dismiss his professional caution? In that case, why had
she telephoned Milton Security in the first place and asked
them to install an alarm?
“O.K. Call her. I’ll get the spare room ready.”
It was not until after 10.00 p.m. that Figuerola and
Blomkvist wrapped sheets around themselves and went to
her kitchen to make a cold pasta salad with tuna and
bacon from the leftovers in her fridge. They drank water
with their dinner.
Figuerola giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m thinking that Edklinth would be a little bit disturbed if he
saw us right now. I don’t believe he intended for me to go to
bed with you when he told me to keep a close eye on you.”
bed with you when he told me to keep a close eye on you.”
“You started it. I had the choice of being handcuffed or
coming quietly,” Blomkvist said.
“True, but you weren’t very hard to convince.”
“Maybe you aren’t aware of this – though I doubt that – but
you give off the most incredible sexual vibrations. Who on
earth do you think can resist that?”
“You’re very kind, but I’m not that sexy. And I don’t have sex
quite that often either.”
“You amaze me.”
“I don’t, and I don’t end up in bed with that many men. I was
going out with a guy this spring. But it ended.”
“Why was that?”
“He was sweet, but it turned into a wearisome sort of arm-wrestling contest. I was stronger than he was and he
couldn’t bear it. Are you the kind of man who’ll want to arm-wrestle me?”
“You mean, am I someone who has a problem with the fact
that you’re fitter and physically stronger than I am? No, I’m
not.”
“Thanks for being honest. I’ve noticed that quite a few men
get interested, but then they start challenging me and
looking for ways to dominate me. Especially if they discover
I’m a policewoman.”
“I’m not going to compete with you. I’m better than you are
at what I do. And you’re better than I am at what you do.”
“I can live with that attitude.”
“Why did you pick me up?”
“I give in to impulses. And you were one of them!”
“But you’re an officer in Säpo, of all places, and we’re in
the middle of an investigation in which I’m involved …”
“You mean it was unprofessional of me. You’re right. I
shouldn’t have done it. And I’d have a serious problem if it
became known. Edklinth would go through the roof.”
“I won’t tell him.”
“Very chivalrous.”
They were silent for a moment.
“I don’t know what this is going to turn into. You’re a man
who gets more than his fair share of action, as I gather. Is
that accurate?”
“Yes, unfortunately. And I may not be looking for a steady
girlfriend.”
“Fair warning. I’m probably not looking for a steady
boyfriend either. Can we keep it on a friendly level?”
“I think that would be best. Monica, I’m not going to tell
anybody that we got together. But if we aren’t careful I
could end up in one hell of a conflict with your colleagues.”
“I don’t think so. Edklinth is as straight as a die. And we
share the same objective, you and my people.”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
“You had a thing with Lisbeth Salander too.”
Blomkvist looked at her. “Listen … I’m not an open book for
everyone to read. My relationship with Lisbeth is none of
anyone’s business.”
“She’s Zalachenko’s daughter.”
“Yes, and she has to live with that. But she isn’t
Zalachenko. There’s the world of difference.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I was wondering about your
involvement in this story.”
involvement in this story.”
“Lisbeth is my friend. That should be enough of an
explanation.”
*
Linder from Milton Security was dressed in jeans, a black
leather jacket and running shoes. She arrived in
Saltsjöbaden at 9.00 in the evening and Rosin showed her
around the house. She had brought a green military bag
containing her laptop, a spring baton, a Mace canister,
handcuffs and a toothbrush, which she unpacked in
Berger’s spare room.
Berger made coffee.
“Thanks for the coffee. You’re probably thinking of me as a
guest you have to entertain. The fact is, I’m not a guest at
all. I’m a necessary evil that’s suddenly appeared in your
life, albeit just for a couple of days. I was in the police for
six years and I’ve worked at Milton for four. I’m a trained
bodyguard.”
“I see.”
“There’s a threat against you and I’m here to be a
gatekeeper so that you can sleep in peace or work or read
a book or do whatever you feel like doing. If you need to
talk, I’m happy to listen. Otherwise, I brought my own book.”
talk, I’m happy to listen. Otherwise, I brought my own book.”
“Understood.”
“What I mean is that you should go on with your life and not
feel as though you need to entertain me. Then I’d just be in
the way. The best thing would be for you to think of me as
a temporary work colleague.”
“Well, I’m certainly not used to this kind of situation. I’ve
had threats before, when I was editor-in-chief at
Millennium, but then it was to do with my work. Right now
it’s some seriously unpleasant individual—”
“Who’s got a hang-up about you in particular.”
“Something along those lines.”
“If we have to arrange full bodyguard protection, it’ll cost a
lot of money. And for it to be worth the cost, there has to be
a very clear and specific threat. This is just an extra job for
me. I’ll ask you for 500 kronor a night to sleep here the rest
of the week. It’s cheap and far below what I would charge if
I took the job for Milton. Is that O.K. with you?”
“It’s completely O.K.”
“If anything happens, I want you to lock yourself in your
bedroom and let me handle the situation. Your job is to
press the attack alarm. That’s all. I don’t want you
press the attack alarm. That’s all. I don’t want you
underfoot if there’s any trouble.”
*
Berger went to bed at 11.00. She heard the click of the lock
as she closed her bedroom door. Deep in thought, she
undressed and climbed into bed.
She had been told not to feel obliged to entertain her
“guest,” but she had spent two hours with Linder at the
kitchen table. She discovered that they got along famously.
They had discussed the psychology that causes certain
men to stalk women. Linder told her that she did not hold
with psychological mumbo-jumbo. She thought the most
important thing was simply to stop the bastards, and she
enjoyed her job at Milton Security a great deal, since her
assignments were largely to act as a counter-force to
raging lunatics.
“So why did you resign from the police force?” Berger said.
“A better question would be why did I become a police
officer in the first place.”
“Why did you become a police officer?”
“Because when I was seventeen a close friend of mine was
mugged and raped in a car by three utter bastards. I
became a police officer because I thought, rather
became a police officer because I thought, rather
idealistically, that the police existed to prevent crimes like
that.”
“Well—”
“I couldn’t prevent shit. As a policewoman I invariably
arrived on the scene after a crime had been committed. I
couldn’t cope with the arrogant lingo on the squad. And I
soon found out that some crimes are never even
investigated. You’re a typical example. Did you try to call
the police about what happened?”
“Yes.”
“And did they bother to come out here?”
“Not really. I was told to file a report at the local station.”
“So now you know. I work for Armansky, and I come into the
picture before a crime is committed.”
“Mostly to do with women who are threatened?”
“I work with all kinds of things. Security assessments,
bodyguard protection, surveillance and so on. But the work
is often to do with people who have been threatened. I get
on considerably better at Milton than on the force, although
there’s a drawback.”
“What’s that?”
“We are only there for clients who can pay.”
As she lay in bed Berger thought about what Linder had
said. Not everyone can afford security. She herself had
accepted Rosin’s proposal for several new doors,
engineers, back-up alarm systems and everything else
without blinking. The cost of all that work would be almost
50,000 kronor. But she could afford it.
She pondered for a moment her suspicion that the person
threatening her had something to do with S.M.P. Whoever
it was had known that she had hurt her foot. She thought of
Holm. She did not like him, which added to her mistrust of
him, but the news that she had been injured had spread
fast from the second she appeared in the newsroom on
crutches.
And she had the Borgsjö problem.
She suddenly sat up in bed and frowned, looking around
the bedroom. She wondered where she had put Cortez’s
file on Borgsjö and Vitavara Inc.
She got up, put on her dressing gown and leaned on a
crutch. She went to her study and turned on the light. No,
she had not been in her study since … since she had read
through the file in the bath the night before. She had put it
on the windowsill.
She looked in the bathroom. It was not on the windowsill.
She stood there for a while, worrying.
She had no memory of seeing the folder that morning. She
had not moved it anywhere else.
She turned ice-cold and spent the next five minutes
searching the bathroom and going through the stacks of
papers and newspapers in the kitchen and bedroom. In the
end she had to admit that the folder was gone.
Between the time when she had stepped on the shard of
glass and Rosin’s arrival that morning, somebody had
gone into her bathroom and taken Millennium’s material
about Vitavara Inc.
Then it occurred to her that she had other secrets in the
house. She limped back to the bedroom and opened the
bottom drawer of the chest by her bed. Her heart sank like
a stone. Everyone has secrets. She kept hers in the chest
of drawers in her bedroom. Berger did not regularly write a
diary, but there were periods when she had. There were
also old love letters which she had kept from her teenage
years.
There was an envelope with photographs that had been
cool at the time, but … When Berger was twenty-five she
had been involved in Club Xtreme, which arranged private
dating parties for people who were into leather. There were
photographs from various parties, and if she had been
sober at the time, she would have recognized that she
looked completely demented.
And – most disastrous of all – there was a video taken on
holiday in the early ’90s when she and Greger had been
guests of the glass artist Torkel Bollinger at his villa on the
Costa del Sol. During the holiday Berger had discovered
that her husband had a definite bisexual tendency, and
they had both ended up in bed with Torkel. It had been a
pretty wonderful holiday. Video cameras were still a
relatively new phenomenon. The movie they had playfully
made was definitely not for general release.
The drawer was empty.
How could I have been so bloody stupid?
On the bottom of the drawer someone had spray-painted
the familiar five-letter word.
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