Before that strange evening was over, Armansky and Salander had come to an
agreement. In future she would do research projects for him on a freelance basis.
She would receive a small monthly income whether she did any assignments or
not. The real money would be made when she was paid per assignment. She could
work the way she wanted to; in return she pledged never to do anything that
might embarrass him or risk subjecting Milton Security to scandal.
For Armansky this was a solution that was advantageous to him, the company, and
Salander herself. He cut the troublesome PI department down to a single full-time
employee, an older colleague who handled routine jobs perfectly well and ran
credit checks. All complicated or tricky assignments he turned over to Salander and
a few other freelancers who—in the last resort—were independent contractors for
whom Milton Security had actually no responsibility. Since he regularly engaged
her services, she earned a good salary. It could have been much higher, but
Salander worked only when she felt like it.
Armansky accepted her as she was, but she was not allowed to meet the clients.
Today’s assignment was an exception.
Salander was dressed for the day in a black T-shirt with a picture on it of E.T. with
fangs, and the words I AM ALSO AN ALIEN. She had on a black skirt that was frayed
at the hem, a worn-out black, mid-length leather jacket, rivet belt, heavy Doc
Marten boots, and horizontally striped, green-and-red knee socks. She had put on
make-up in a colour scheme that indicated she might be colourblind. In other
words, she was exceptionally decked out.
Armansky sighed and shifted his gaze to the conservatively dressed guest with the
thick glasses. Dirch Frode, a lawyer, had insisted on meeting and being able to ask
questions of the employee who prepared the report. Armansky had done all he
civilly could to prevent the meeting taking place, saying that Salander had a cold,
was away, or was swamped with other work. The lawyer replied calmly that it made
no difference—the matter was not urgent and he could easily wait a couple of
days. At last there was no way to avoid bringing them together. Now Frode, who
seemed to be in his late sixties, was looking at Lisbeth Salander with evident
fascination. Salander glowered back with an expression that did not indicate any
warm feelings.