Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [172]
The conclusion was just as unpleasant as it was obvious. She was being stalked.
Someone, for some unknown reason, had decided to harass her.
The fact that her home had been subject to an attack was understandable – it was where it was and impossible to disguise. But if her car had been damaged on some random street in Södermalm, her stalker must have been somewhere nearby when she parked it. They must have been following her.
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 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 he