She reminded herself that she was the one who knew everything. Knowledge is
power.
“What are you grinning at?” she said.
“I’m sorry. I had not in fact planned to make my entrance in this way. I didn’t mean
to alarm you. But you should have seen your face when you opened the door. It
was priceless.”
Silence. To her surprise, Salander found his uninvited intrusion acceptable—well, at
least not unpleasant.
“You’ll have to think of it as my revenge for your poking around in my personal
life,” he said. “Are you frightened?”
“Not the least bit,” Salander said.
“Good. I’m not here to make trouble for you.”
“If you even try to hurt me I’ll have to do you an injury. You’ll be sorry.”
Blomkvist studied her. She was barely four foot eleven and did not look as though
she could put up much resistance if he were an assailant who had forced his way
into her apartment. But her eyes were expressionless and calm.
“Well, that won’t be necessary,” he said at last. “I only need to talk to you. If you
want me to leave, all you have to do is say so. It’s funny but...oh, nothing...”
“What?”
“This may sound crazy, but four days ago I didn’t even know you existed. Then I
read your analysis of me.” He searched through his shoulder bag and brought out
the report. “It was not entertaining reading.”
He looked out of the kitchen window for a while. “Could I bum a cigarette?” She slid
the pack across the table.
“You said before that we don’t know each other, and I said that yes, we do.” He
pointed at the report. “I can’t compete with you. I’ve only done a rapid routine
check, to get your address and date of birth, stuff like that. But you certainly know a
great deal about me. Much of which is private, dammit, things that only my closest