Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The - Stieg Larsson [188]
“Armansky says to call at once.”
She used a telephone in the lobby. Blomkvist, who was standing a short distance away, noticed Salander turn to him with a frozen expression on her face. He was at her side at once.
“What is it?”
“My mother died. I have to go home.”
Salander looked so unhappy that he put his arms around her. She pushed him away.
They sat in the hotel bar. When Blomkvist said that he would cancel the reservations to Australia and go back to Stockholm with her, she shook her head.
“No,” she said. “We can’t screw up the job now. You’ll have to go by yourself.”
They parted outside the hotel, each of them making for a different airport.
CHAPTER 26
Tuesday, July 15–Thursday, July 17
Blomkvist flew from Melbourne to Alice Springs. After that he had to choose either to charter a plane or to rent a car for the remaining 250-mile trip north. He chose to go by car.
An unknown person with the biblical signature of Joshua, who was part of Plague’s or possibly Trinity’s mysterious international network, had left an envelope for him at the central information desk at Melbourne airport.
The number that Anita had called belonged to a place called Cochran Farm. It was a sheep station. An article pulled off the Internet gave a snapshot guide.
Australia: population of 18 million; sheep farmers, 53,000; approx. 120 million head of sheep. The export of wool approx. 3.5 billion dollars annually. Australia exports 700 million tons of mutton and lamb, plus skins for clothing. Combined meat and wool production one of the country’s most important industries…
Cochran Farm, founded 1891 by Jeremy Cochran, Australia’s fifth largest agricultural enterprise, approx 60,000 Merino sheep (wool considered especially fine). The station also raised cattle, pigs, and chickens. Cochran Farm had impressive annual exports to the U.S.A., Japan, China, and Europe.
The personal biographies were fascinating.
In 1972 Cochran Farm passed down from Raymond Cochran to Spencer Cochran, educ. Oxford. Spencer d. in 1994, and farm run by widow. Blomkvist found her in a blurry, low-resolution photograph downloaded from the Cochran Farm website. It showed a woman with short blonde hair, her face partially hidden, shearing a sheep.
According to Joshua’s note, the couple had married in Italy in 1971.
Her name was Anita Cochran.
Blomkvist stopped overnight in a dried-up hole of a town with the hopeful name of Wannado. At the local pub he ate roast mutton and downed three pints along with some locals who all called him “mate.”
Last thing before he went to bed he called Berger in New York.
“I’m sorry, Ricky, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to call.”
“What the hell is going on?” she exploded. “Christer called and told me that Martin Vanger had been killed in a car accident.”
“It’s a long story.”
“And why don’t you answer your telephone? I’ve been calling like crazy for two days.”
“It doesn’t work here.”
“Where is here?”
“Right now I’m about one hundred twenty-five miles north of Alice Springs. In Australia, that is.”
Mikael had rarely managed to surprise Berger. This time she was silent for nearly ten seconds.
“And what are you doing in Australia? If I might ask.”
“I’m finishing up the job. I’ll be back in a few days. I just called to tell you that my work for Henrik Vanger is almost done.”
He arrived at Cochran Farm around noon the following day, to be told that Anita Cochran was at a sheep station near a place called Makawaka seventy-five miles farther west.
It was 4:00 in the afternoon by the time Mikael found his way there on dusty back roads. He stopped at a gate where some sheep ranchers were gathered around the hood of a Jeep having coffee. Blomkvist got out and explained that he was looking for Anita Cochran. They all turned towards a muscular young man, clearly the decision-maker of the group. He was bare chested and very brown except for the parts normally covered by his T-shirt. He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat.
“The boss is about eighteen