Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [185]
“That’s pretty vague,” Cortez said.
Blomkvist shook his head. “If I say that a Säpo agent broke into my apartment and I can document it – and him – with a video, then it’s documented. If I say that he did it on behalf of the Section, then that’s speculation, but in the light of all the facts we’re setting out, it’s a reasonable speculation. Does that make sense?”
“It does.”
“I won’t have time to write all the missing pieces myself. I have a list of articles here that you, Henry, will have to cobble together. It corresponds to about fifty pages of book text. Malin, you’re back-up for Henry, just as when we were editing Dag’s book. All three of our names will be on the cover and title page. Is that alright with you two?”
“That’s fine,” Eriksson said. “But we have other urgent problems.”
“Such as?”
“While you were concentrating on the Zalachenko story, we had a hell of a lot of work to do here—”
“You’re saying I wasn’t available?”
Eriksson nodded.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. We all know that when you’re in the throes of a story, nothing else matters. But that won’t work for the rest of us, and it definitely doesn’t work for me. Erika had me to lean on. I have Henry, and he’s an ace, but he’s putting in an equal amount of time on your story. Even if we count you in, we’re still two people short in editorial.”
“Two?”
“And I’m not Erika. She had a routine that I can’t compete with. I’m still learning this job. Monika is working her backside off. And so is Lottie. Nobody has a moment to stop and think.”
“This is all temporary. As soon as the trial begins—”
“No, Mikael. It won’t be over then. When the trial begins, it’ll be sheer hell. Remember what it was like during the Wennerström affair. We won’t see you for three months while you hop from one T. V. interview sofa to another.”
Blomkvist sighed. “What do you suggest?”
“If we’re going to run Millennium effectively during the autumn, we’re going to need new blood. Two people at least, maybe three. We just don’t have the editorial capacity for what we’re trying to do, and …”
“And?”
“And I’m not sure that I’m ready to do it.”
“I hear you, Malin.”
“I mean it. I’m a damn good assistant editor – it’s a piece of cake with Erika as your boss. We said that we were going to try this over the summer … well, we’ve tried it. I’m not a good editor-in-chief.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” Cortez said.
Eriksson shook her head.
“I hear what you’re saying,” Blomkvist said, “But remember that it’s been an extreme situation.”
Eriksson smiled at him sadly. “You could take this as a complaint from the staff,” she said.
The operations unit of Constitutional Protection spent Friday trying to get a handle on the information they had received from Blomkvist. Two of their team had moved into a temporary office at Fridhemsplan, where all the documentation was being assembled. It was inconvenient because the police intranet was at headquarters, which meant that they had to walk back and forth between the two buildings several times a day. Even if it was only a ten-minute walk, it was tiresome. By lunchtime they already had extensive documentation of the fact that both Fredrik Clinton and Hans von Rottinger had been associated with the Security Police in the ’60s and early ’70s.
Von Rottinger came originally from the military intelligence service and worked for several years in the office that coordinated military defence with the Security Police. Clinton’s background was in the air force and he began working for the Personal Protection Unit of the Security Police in 1967.
They had both left S.I.S.: Clinton in 1971 and von Rottinger in 1973. Clinton had gone into business as a management consultant, and von Rottinger had entered the civil service to do investigations for the Swedish Atomic Energy Agency. He was based in London.
It was late afternoon by the time Figuerola was able to convey to Edklinth with some certainty the discovery that Clinton’s and von Rottinger