Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [78]
They talked for another two minutes before Blomkvist ended the conversation.
“I want you to come back to Stockholm tomorrow,” he said.
“I have to see Salander.”
“Go and see her in the morning. We have to sit down and think about where we go from here.”
When Blomkvist hung up he sat on the sofa staring into space. Whoever was listening to their conversation knew now that Millennium had lost Björck’s report along with the correspondence between Björck and Dr Teleborian. They could be satisfied that Blomkvist and Giannini were in despair.
If nothing else, Blomkvist had learned from the preceding night’s study of the history of the Security Police that disinformation was the basis of all espionage activity. And he had just planted disinformation that in the long run might prove invaluable.
He opened his laptop case and took out the copy made for Armansky which he had not yet managed to deliver. The only remaining copy, and he did not intend to waste it. On the contrary, he would make five more copies and put them in safe places.
Then he called Eriksson. She was about to lock up for the day.
“Where did you disappear to in such a hurry?” she said.
“Could you hang on there a few minutes please? There’s something I have to discuss with you before you leave.”
He had not had time to do his laundry for several weeks. All his shirts were in the basket. He packed a razor and Power Struggle for Säpo along with the last remaining copy of Björck’s report. He went to Dressman and bought four shirts, two pairs of trousers and some underwear and took the clothes with him to the office. Eriksson waited while he took a quick shower, wondering what was going on.
“Someone broke into my apartment and stole the Zalachenko report. Someone mugged Annika in Göteborg and stole her copy. I have proof that her phone is tapped, which may well mean that mine is too. Maybe yours at home and all the Millennium phones have been bugged. And if someone took the trouble to break into my apartment, they’d be pretty dim if they didn’t bug it as well.”
“I see,” said Eriksson in a flat voice. She glanced at the mobile on the desk in front of her.
“Keep working as usual. Use the mobile, but don’t give away any information. Tomorrow, tell Henry.”
“He went home an hour ago. He left a stack of public reports on your desk. But what are you doing here?”
“I plan to sleep here tonight. If they shot Zalachenko, stole the reports, and bugged my apartment today, there’s a good chance they’ve just got started and haven’t done the office yet. People have been here all day. I don’t want the office to be empty tonight.”
“You think that the murder of Zalachenko … but the murderer was a geriatric psycho.”
“Malin, I don’t believe in coincidence. Somebody is covering Zalachenko’s tracks. I don’t care who people think that old lunatic was or how many crazy letters he wrote to government ministers. He was a hired killer of some sort. He went there to kill Zalachenko … and maybe Lisbeth too.”
“But he committed suicide, or tried to. What hired killer would do that?”
Blomkvist thought for a moment. He met the editor-in-chief’s gaze.
“Maybe someone who’s seventy-eight and hasn’t much to lose. He’s mixed up in all this, and when we finish digging we’ll prove it.”
Eriksson studied Blomkvist’s face. She had never before seen him so composed and unflinching. She shuddered. Blomkvist noticed her reaction.
“One more thing. We’re no longer in a battle with a gang of criminals, this time it’s with a government department. It’s going to be tough.”
Eriksson nodded.
“I didn’t imagine things would go this far. Malin … what happened today makes very plain how dangerous this could get. If you want out, just say the word.”
She wondered what Berger would have said. Then stubbornly she shook her head.
PART II
HACKER REPUBLIC
1 – 22.v
An Irish law from the year 697 forbids women to be soldiers – which means that women had been soldiers previously. Peoples who over