“If Henrik dies, that investigation is going to be over awfully damned fast. Then
you’ll be out on your grubby, snivelling investigative backside,” Cecilia said, and
she walked away.
Everything was closed. Hedestad was practically deserted, and the inhabitants
seemed to have retreated to their Midsummer poles at their summer cottages.
Blomkvist made for the Stadshotel terrace, which was actually open, and there he
was able to order coffee and a sandwich and read the evening papers. Nothing of
importance was happening in the world.
He put the paper down and thought about Cecilia Vanger. He had told no-one—
apart from the Salander girl—that she was the one who had opened the window in
Harriet’s room. He was afraid that it would make her a suspect, and the last thing he
wanted to do was hurt her. But the question was going to have to be asked, sooner
or later.
He sat on the terrace for an hour before he decided to set the whole problem aside
and devote Midsummer Eve to something other than the Vanger family. His mobile
was silent. Berger was away amusing herself somewhere with her husband, and he
had no-one to talk to.
He went back to Hedeby Island at around 4:00 in the afternoon and made another
decision—to stop smoking. He had been working out regularly ever since he did
his military service, both at the gym and by running along Söder Mälarstrand, but
had fallen out of the habit when the problems with Wennerström began. It was at
Rullåker Prison that he had starting pumping iron again, mostly as therapy. But
since his release he had taken almost no exercise. It was time to start again. He put
on his tracksuit and set off at a lazy pace along the road to Gottfried’s cabin, turned
off towards the Fortress, and took a rougher course cross country. He had done no
orienteering since he was in the military, but he had always thought it was more
fun to run through a wooded terrain than on a flat track. He followed the fence
around Östergården back to the village. He was aching all over and out of breath
by the time he took the last steps up to the guest house.
At 6:00 he took a shower. He boiled some potatoes and had open sandwiches of
pickled herring in mustard sauce with chives and egg on a rickety table outside the
cottage, facing the bridge. He poured himself a shot of aquavit and drank a toast to