“Because I can offer you something that you can’t buy for any price, but which you
want more than anything in the world.”
“And what would that be?”
Vanger’s eyes narrowed.
“I can give you Hans-Erik Wennerström. I can prove that he’s a swindler. He
happened, thirty-five years ago, to begin his career with me, and I can give you his
head on a platter. Solve the mystery and you can turn your defeat in court into the
story of the year.”
CHAPTER 7
Friday, January 3
Erika set her coffee cup on the table and stood by the window looking out at the
view of Gamla Stan. It was 9:00 in the morning. All the snow had been washed
away by the rain over New Year’s.
“I’ve always loved this view,” she said. “An apartment like this would make me give
up living in Saltsjöbaden.”
“You’ve got the keys. You can move over from your upper-class reserve any time
you want,” Blomkvist said. He closed the suitcase and put it by the front door.
Berger turned and gave him a disbelieving look. “You can’t be serious, Mikael,” she
said. “We’re in our worst crisis and you’re packing to go and live in Tjottahejti.”
“Hedestad. A couple of hours by train. And it’s not for ever.”
“It might as well be Ulan Bator. Don’t you see that it will look as if you’re slinking off
with your tail between your legs?”
“That’s precisely what I am doing. Besides, I have to do some gaol time too.”
Christer Malm was sitting on the sofa. He was uncomfortable. It was the first time
since they founded Millennium that he had seen Berger and Blomkvist in such