The fact that Salander worked for Dragan Armansky at all was astonishing. She was
not the sort of woman with whom he would normally come into contact.
She had been hired as a jill-of-all-trades. Holger Palmgren, a semi-retired lawyer
who looked after old J. F. Milton’s personal affairs, had told Armansky that this
Lisbeth Salander was a quick-witted girl with “a rather trying attitude.” Palmgren
had appealed to him to give her a chance, which Armansky had, against his better
judgement, promised to do. Palmgren was the type of man who would only take
“no” as an encouragement to redouble his efforts, so it was easier to say “yes” right
away. Armansky knew that Palmgren devoted himself to troubled kids and other
social misfits, but he did have good judgement.
He had regretted his decision to hire the girl the moment he met her. She did not
just seem difficult—in his eyes she was the very quintessence of difficult. She had
dropped out of school and had no sort of higher education.
The first few months she had worked full time, well, almost full time. She turned up
at the office now and then. She made coffee, went to the post office, and took care
of the copying, but conventional office hours or work routines were anathema to
her. On the other hand, she had a talent for irritating the other employees. She
became known as “the girl with two brain cells”—one for breathing and one for
standing up. She never talked about herself. Colleagues who tried to talk to her
seldom got a response and soon gave up. Her attitude encouraged neither trust
nor friendship, and she quickly became an outsider wandering the corridors of
Milton like a stray cat. She was generally considered a hopeless case.
After a month of nothing but trouble, Armansky sent for her, fully intending to let
her go. She listened to his catalogue of her offences without objection and without
even raising an eyebrow. She did not have the “right attitude,” he concluded, and
was about to tell her that it would probably be a good idea if she looked for
employment with another firm that could make better use of her skills. Only then
did she interrupt him.
“You know, if you just want an office serf you can get one from the temp agency. I
can handle anything and anyone you want, and if you don’t have any better use for
me than sorting post, then you’re an idiot.”
Armansky sat there, stunned and angry, and she went on unperturbed.