politics and steered clear of Uppsala. Instead he studied economics in Stockholm.
After he turned eighteen he spent every break and summer holiday working at one
of the offices within the Vanger Corporation or working with the management of
one of its companies. He became familiar with all the labyrinths of the family
business.
On 10 June, 1941—in the midst of an all-out war—Vanger was sent to Germany for
a six-week visit at the Vanger Corporation business offices in Hamburg. He was only
twenty-one and the Vanger’s German agent, a company veteran by the name of
Hermann Lobach, was his chaperone and mentor.
“I won’t tire you with all the details, but when I went there, Hitler and Stalin were
still good friends and there wasn’t yet an Eastern Front. Everyone still believed that
Hitler was invincible. There was a feeling of...both optimism and desperation. I
think those are the right words. More than half a century later, it’s still difficult to
put words to the mood. Don’t get me wrong—I was not a Nazi, and in my eyes
Hitler seemed like some absurd character in an operetta. But it would have been
almost impossible not to be infected by the optimism about the future, which was
rife among ordinary people in Hamburg. Despite the fact that the war was getting
closer, and several bombing raids were carried out against Hamburg during the
time I was there, the people seemed to think it was mostly a temporary
annoyance—that soon there would be peace and Hitler would establish
hisNeuropa. People wanted to believe that Hitler was God. That’s what it sounded
like in the propaganda.”
Vanger opened one of his many photograph albums.
“This is Lobach. He disappeared in 1944, presumably lost in some bombing raid. We
never knew what his fate was. During my weeks in Hamburg I became close to him.
I was staying with him and his family in an elegant apartment in a well-to-do
neighbourhood of Hamburg. We spent time together every day. He was no more a
Nazi than I was, but for convenience he was a member of the party. His
membership card opened doors and facilitated opportunities for the Vanger
Corporation—and business was precisely what we did. We built freight wagons for
their trains—I’ve always wondered whether any of our wagons were destined for
Poland. We sold fabric for their uniforms and tubes for their radio sets—although
officially we didn’t know what they were using the goods for. And Lobach knew
how to land a contract; he was entertaining and good-natured. The perfect Nazi.
Gradually I began to see that he was also a man who was desperately trying to hide
a secret.