Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The - Stieg Larsson [157]
Without another word, she put on her helmet, kick-started the motorcycle, and roared off across the bridge.
Blomkvist hid the corpse and the head and guts in the rubbish bin beside the petrol station before he drove into Hedestad to do his errands. He drove to the hospital. He had made an appointment to meet Frode in the cafeteria, and he told him what had happened that morning. Frode blanched.
“Mikael, I never imagined that this story could take this turn.”
“Why not? The job was to find a murderer, after all.”
“But this is disgusting and inhuman. If there’s a danger to your life or to Fröken Salander’s life, we are going to call it off. Let me talk to Henrik.”
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to risk his having another attack.”
“He asks me all the time how things are going with you.”
“Say hello from me, please, and tell him I’m moving forward.”
“What is next, then?”
“I have a few questions. The first incident occurred just after Henrik had his heart attack and I was down in Stockholm for the day. Somebody went through my office. I had printed out the Bible verses, and the photographs from Järnvägsgatan were on my desk. You knew and Henrik knew. Martin knew a part of it since he organised for me to get into the Courier offices. How many other people knew?”
“Well, I don’t know who Martin talked to. But both Birger and Cecilia knew about it. They discussed your hunting in the pictures archive between themselves. Alexander knew about it too. And, by the way, Gunnar and Helena Nilsson did too. They were up to say hello to Henrik and got dragged into the conversation. And Anita Vanger.”
“Anita? The one in London?”
“Cecilia’s sister. She came back with Cecilia when Henrik had his heart attack but stayed at a hotel; as far as I know, she hasn’t been out to the island. Like Cecilia, she doesn’t want to see her father. But she flew back when Henrik came out of intensive care.”
“Where’s Cecilia living? I saw her this morning as she drove across the bridge, but her house is always dark.”
“She’s not capable of doing such a thing, is she?”
“No, I just wonder where she’s staying.”
“She’s staying with her brother, Birger. It’s within walking distance to visit Henrik.”
“Do you know where she is right now?”
“No. She’s not visiting Henrik, at any rate.”
“Thanks,” Blomkvist said, getting up.
The Vanger family was hovering around Hedestad Hospital. In the reception Birger Vanger passed on his way to the lifts. Blomkvist waited until he was gone before he went out to the reception. Instead he ran into Martin Vanger at the entrance, at exactly the same spot where he had run into Cecilia on his previous visit. They said hello and shook hands.
“Have you been up to see Henrik?”
“No, I just happened to meet Dirch Frode.”
Martin looked tired and hollow-eyed. It occurred to Mikael that he had aged appreciably during the six months since he had met him.
“How are things going with you, Mikael?” he said.
“More interesting with every day that passes. When Henrik is feeling better I hope to be able to satisfy his curiosity.”
Birger Vanger’s was a white-brick terrace house a five-minute walk from the hospital. He had a view of the sea and the Hedestad marina. No-one answered when Blomkvist rang the doorbell. He called Cecilia’s mobile number but got no answer there either. He sat in the car for a while, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Birger Vanger was the wild card in the deck; born in 1939 and so ten years old when Rebecka Jacobsson was murdered; twenty-seven when Harriet disappeared.
According to Henrik, Birger and Harriet hardly ever saw each other. He had grown up with his family in Uppsala and only moved to Hedestad to work for the firm. He jumped ship after a couple of years and devoted himself to politics. But he had been in Uppsala at the time Lena Andersson was murdered.
The incident with the cat gave him an ominous feeling, as if he were about to run out of time.
Otto Falk was thirty-six when Harriet vanished. He was now seventy-two, younger than Henrik