“Are you that person who’s been snooping around in our family affairs?”
“Well, if you mean am I the person that Henrik Vanger has put under contract to
help him with his book about the Vanger family, then yes.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Which? The fact that Henrik Vanger offered me a contract or the fact that I
accepted?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. I don’t care for people poking around in my
life.”
“I won’t poke around in your life. The rest you’ll have to discuss with Henrik.”
Isabella raised her cane and pressed the handle against Mikael’s chest. She did not
use much force, but he took a step back in surprise.
“Just you keep away from me,” she said, and turned on her heel and walked
unsteadily towards her house. Blomkvist went on standing where he was, looking
like a man who has just met a real live comic-book character. When he looked up
he saw Vanger in the window of his office. In his hand he was holding a cup, which
he raised in an ironic salute.
The only travelling that Blomkvist did during that first month was a drive to a bay
on Lake Siljan. He borrowed Frode’s Mercedes and drove through a snowy
landscape to spend the afternoon with Detective Superintendent Morell. Blomkvist
had tried to form an impression of Morell based on the way he came across in the
police report. What he found was a wiry old man who moved softly and spoke even
more slowly.
Blomkvist brought with him a notebook with ten questions, mainly ideas that had
cropped up while he was reading the police report. Morell answered each question
put to him in a schoolmasterly way. Finally Blomkvist put away his notes and
explained that the questions were simply an excuse for a meeting. What he really
wanted was to have a chat with him and ask one crucial question: was there any
single thing in the investigation that had not been included in the written report?
Any hunches, even, that the inspector might be willing to share with him?