Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The - Stieg Larsson [136]
CHAPTER 19
Thursday, June 19–Sunday, June 29
While he waited for word on whether Vanger was going to pull through or not, Blomkvist spent the days going over his materials. He kept in close touch with Frode. On Thursday evening Frode brought him the news that the immediate crisis seemed to be over.
“I was able to talk to him for a while today. He wants to see you as soon as possible.”
So it was that, around 1:00 on the afternoon of Midsummer Eve, Blomkvist drove to Hedestad Hospital and went in search of the ward. He encountered an angry Birger Vanger, who blocked his way. Henrik could not possibly receive visitors, he said.
“That’s odd,” Blomkvist said, “Henrik sent word saying that he expressly wanted to see me today.”
“You’re not a member of the family; you have no business here.”
“You’re right. I’m not a member of the family. But I’m working for Henrik Vanger, and I take orders only from him.”
This might have led to a heated exchange if Frode had not at that moment come out of Vanger’s room.
“Oh, there you are. Henrik has been asking after you.”
Frode held open the door and Blomkvist walked past Birger into the room.
Vanger looked to have aged ten years. He was lying with his eyes half closed, an oxygen tube in his nose, and his hair more dishevelled than ever. A nurse stopped Blomkvist, putting a hand firmly on his arm.
“Two minutes. No more. And don’t upset him.” Blomkvist sat on a visitor’s chair so that he could see Vanger’s face. He felt a tenderness that astonished him, and he stretched out his hand to gently squeeze the old man’s hand.
“Any news?” The voice was weak.
Blomkvist nodded.
“I’ll give you a report as soon as you’re better. I haven’t solved the mystery yet, but I’ve found more new stuff and I’m following up a number of leads. In a week, perhaps two, I’ll be able to tell the results.”
The most Vanger could manage was to blink, indicating that he understood.
“I have to be away for a few days.”
Henrik raised his eyebrows.
“I’m not jumping ship. I have some research to do. I’ve reached an agreement with Dirch that I should report to him. Is that OK with you?”
“Dirch is…my man…in all matters.”
Blomkvist squeezed Vanger’s hand again.
“Mikael…if I don’t…I want you to…finish the job.”
“I will finish the job.”
“Dirch has…full…”
“Henrik, I want you to get better. I’d be furious with you if you went and died after I’ve made such progress.”
“Two minutes,” the nurse said.
“Next time we’ll have a long talk.”
Birger Vanger was waiting for him when he came out. He stopped him by laying a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t want you bothering Henrik any more. He’s very ill, and he’s not supposed to be upset or disturbed.”
“I understand your concern, and I sympathise. And I’m not going to upset him.”
“Everyone knows that Henrik hired you to poke around in his little hobby…Harriet. Dirch said that Henrik became very upset after a conversation you had with him before he had the heart attack. He even said that you thought you had caused the attack.”
“I don’t think so any more. Henrik had severe blockages in his arteries. He could have had a heart attack just by having a pee. I’m sure you know that by now.”
“I want full disclosure into this lunacy. This is my family you’re mucking around in.”
“I told you, I work for Henrik, not for the family.”
Birger Vanger was apparently not used to having anyone stand up to him. For a moment he stared at Blomkvist with an expression that was presumably meant to instil respect, but which made him look more like an inflated moose. Birger turned and went into Vanger’s room.
Blomkvist restrained the urge to laugh. This was no place for laughter, in the corridor outside Vanger’s sickbed, which might also turn out to be his deathbed. But he thought of a verse from Lennart Hyland’s rhyming alphabet. It was the letter M. And all alone the moose he stood, laughing in a shot-up wood.
In the hospital lobby he ran into Cecilia Vanger. He had tried calling her mobile a dozen times since she came back from her interrupted holiday,