His bare feet were stuck in a pair of slippers, and he hadn’t zipped his fly. He gave
Mikael a brief greeting and then turned to Anna.
“I’ll go with him to the hospital. Call Birger and see if you can reach Cecilia in
London in the morning,” he said. “And tell Dirch.”
“I can go to Frode’s house,” Blomkvist said. Anna nodded gratefully.
It took several minutes before a sleepy Frode answered Blomkvist’s ring at his door.
“I have bad news, Dirch. Henrik has been taken to the hospital. It seems to be a
heart attack. Martin wanted me to tell you.”
“Good Lord,” Frode said. He glanced at his watch. “It’s Friday the thirteenth,” he
said.
Not until the next morning, after he’d had a brief talk with Dirch Frode on his
mobile and been assured that Vanger was still alive, did he call Berger with the
news that Millennium’s new partner had been taken to the hospital with a heart
attack. Inevitably, the news was received with gloom and anxiety.
Late in the evening Frode came to see him and give him the details about Henrik
Vanger’s condition.
“He’s alive, but he’s not doing well. He had a serious heart attack, and he’s also
suffering from an infection.”
“Have you seen him?”
“No. He’s in intensive care. Martin and Birger are sitting with him.”
“What are his chances?”
Frode waved a hand back and forth.
“He survived the attack, and that’s a good sign. Henrik is in excellent condition, but
he’s old. We’ll just have to wait.”