Girl Who Played with Fire, The - Stieg Larsson [101]
“The Guardianship Agency?” Ekström said with a frown.
“This is one very disturbed lady,” Faste said. “She was declared incompetent and put under guardianship. Guess who’s her guardian.” He paused for effect. “Nils Bjurman, the owner of the weapon that was used in Enskede.”
This announcement certainly had the effect Faste had anticipated. It took him fifteen more minutes to brief the group on all he had learned about Salander.
“To sum up,” Ekström said when Faste was finished, “we have fingerprints on the probable murder weapon from a woman who during her teens was in and out of psychiatric units, who is understood to make her living as a prostitute, who was declared incompetent by the district court, and who has been documented as having violent tendencies. We should be asking what the hell she’s doing out on the streets at all.”
“She’s had violent tendencies since she was in elementary school,” said Faste. “She seems to be a real psycho.”
“But so far we have nothing to link her to the couple in Enskede.” Ekström drummed his fingertips on the tabletop. “This double murder may not be so hard to solve after all. Have we got an address for Salander?”
“On Lundagatan in Södermalm. Tax records show that she declared periodic income from Milton Security.”
“And what in God’s name was she doing for them?”
“I don’t know. It’s a pretty modest annual income for several years. Maybe she’s a cleaning woman or something.”
“Hmm,” Ekström said. “We’ll have that checked out. Right now we have to find her.”
“We’ll have to work out the details gradually,” Bublanski said. “But now we have a suspect. Hans, you and Curt go down to Lundagatan and pick up Salander. Be careful—we don’t know if she has other weapons, and we don’t really know how dangerous she may be.”
“OK.”
“Bubble,” Ekström said, “the head of Milton Security is Dragan Armansky. I met him on a case a few years ago. He’s reliable. Go to his office and have a private talk with him about Salander. You’d better get there before he leaves for the day.”
Bublanski was visibly annoyed, partly because Ekström had used his nickname, partly because he had formulated his request as an order.
“Modig,” Bublanski said, “keep looking for Bjurman. Knock on all the neighbours’ doors. I think it’s just as important to find him.”
“OK.”
“We have to find the connection between Salander and the couple in Enskede. And we have to place Salander down in Enskede at the time of the murders. Jerker, get some pictures of her and check with everyone who lives in the apartment building. Knock on doors this evening. Get some uniforms to help you out.”
Bublanski paused and scratched the back of his neck.
“Damn, with a little luck we could tie up this mess tonight—and I thought this was going to be a long, drawn-out affair.”
“One more thing,” Ekström said. “The media are obviously pressuring us. I’ve promised them a press conference at 3:00 p.m. I can handle it provided I get somebody from the press office to help out. I’m guessing that a number of journalists will call you directly as well. We’ll say nothing at all about Salander and Bjurman for as long as need be.”
Armansky had considered going home early. It was Maundy Thursday and he and his wife had planned to go to their summer cabin on Blidö over the Easter weekend. He had just closed his briefcase and put on his coat when the receptionist buzzed him and said that Criminal Inspector Jan Bublanski was looking for him. Armansky did not know Bublanski, but the fact that a senior police officer had come to the office was enough to make him hang his coat back on the coatrack. He did not feel like seeing anyone at all, but Milton Security could not afford to ignore the police. He met Bublanski by the elevator in the corridor.
“Thanks for taking the time to see me,” Bublanski said. “My boss sends his greetings—Prosecutor Ekström.”
They shook hands.
“Ekström—I’ve had dealings with him a few times. It’s been several years. Would you like some coffee?”
Armansky stopped at the coffee machine and pressed the buttons for two cups before he invited