Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The - Stieg Larsson [106]
The story was so big that the 7:30 edition of Rapport ran it as its third lead and gave it a three-minute slot. Erika Berger was interviewed at a conference table in Millennium’s office. All of a sudden the Wennerström affair was news again.
“We made a serious mistake last year which resulted in the magazine being prosecuted for libel. This is something we regret…and we will be following up this story at a suitable occasion.”
“What do you mean by ‘following up the story’?” the reporter said.
“I mean that we will eventually be telling our version of events, which we have not done thus far.”
“You could have done that at the trial.”
“We chose not to do so. But our investigative journalism will continue as before.”
“Does that mean you’re holding to the story that prompted the indictment?”
“I have nothing more to say on that subject.”
“You sacked Mikael Blomkvist after the verdict was delivered.”
“That is inaccurate. Read our press release. He needed a break. He’ll be back as CEO and publisher later this year.”
The camera panned through the newsroom while the reporter quickly recounted background information on Millennium’s stormy history as an original and outspoken magazine. Blomkvist was not available for comment. He had just been shut up in Rullåker Prison, about an hour from Östersund in Jämtland.
Salander noticed Dirch Frode at the edge of the TV screen passing a doorway in the editorial offices. She frowned and bit her lower lip in thought.
That Monday had been a slow news day, and Vanger got a whole four minutes on the 9:00 news. He was interviewed in a TV studio in Hedestad. The reporter began by stating that after two decades of having stood back from the spotlight the industrialist Henrik Vanger was back. The segment began with a snappy biography in black-and-white TV images, showing him with Prime Minister Erlander and opening factories in the sixties. The camera then focused on a studio sofa where Vanger was sitting perfectly relaxed. He wore a yellow shirt, narrow green tie, and comfortable dark-brown suit. He was gaunt, but he spoke in a clear, firm voice. And he was also quite candid. The reporter asked Vanger what had prompted him to become a part owner of Millennium.
“It’s an excellent magazine which I have followed with great interest for several years. Today the publication is under attack. It has enemies who are organising an advertising boycott, trying to run it into the ground.”
The reporter was not prepared for this, but guessed at once that the already unusual story had yet more unexpected aspects.
“What’s behind this boycott?”
“That’s one of the things that Millennium will be examining closely. But I’ll make it clear now that Millennium will not be sunk with the first salvo.”
“Is this why you bought into the magazine?”
“It would be deplorable if the special interests had the power to silence those voices in the media that they find uncomfortable.”
Vanger acted as though he had been a cultural radical espousing freedom of speech all his life. Blomkvist burst out laughing as he spent his first evening in the TV room at Rullåker Prison. His fellow inmates glanced at him uneasily.
Later that evening, when he was lying on the bunk in his cell—which reminded him of a cramped motel room with its tiny table, its one chair, and one shelf on the wall, he admitted that Vanger and Berger had been right about how the news would be marketed. He just knew that something had changed in people’s attitude towards Millennium.
Vanger’s support was no more or less than a declaration of war against Wennerström. The message was clear: in the future you will not be fighting with a magazine with a staff of six and an annual budget corresponding to the cost of a luncheon meeting of the Wennerström Group. You will now be up against the Vanger Corporation, which may be a shadow of its former greatness but still presents a considerably tougher challenge.
The message that Vanger had