Now it was Blomkvist’s turn to look inscrutable. Berger hesitated only a second
before she said: “We had a story. But it was a very different story.”
Vanger nodded, as if he understood precisely what Berger was saying. Blomkvist
did not.
“I don’t want to discuss the matter.” Blomkvist cut the discussion short. “I did the
research and wrote the article. I had all the sources I needed. But then it all went to
hell.”
“You had sources for every last thing you wrote?”
“I did.”
Vanger’s voice was suddenly sharp. “I won’t pretend to understand how the hell
you could walk into such a minefield. I can’t recall a similar story except perhaps
the Lundahl affair in Expressen in the sixties, if you youngsters have ever heard of it.
Was your source also a mythomaniac?” He shook his head and turned to Berger
and said quietly, “I’ve been a newspaper publisher in the past, and I can be one
again. What would you say to taking on another partner?”
The question came like a bolt out of the blue, but Berger did not seem the least bit
surprised.
“Tell me more,” she said.
Vanger said: “How long are you staying in Hedestad?”
“I’m going home tomorrow.”
“Would you consider—you and Mikael, of course—humouring an old man by
joining me for dinner tonight? Would 7:00 suit?”
“That would suit us fine. We’d love it. But you’re not answering the question I
asked. Why would you want to be a partner in Millennium?”
“I’m not avoiding the question. I just thought we could discuss it over dinner. I have
to talk with my lawyer before I can put together a concrete offer. But in all
simplicity I can say that I have money to invest. If the magazine survives and starts
making a profit again, then I’ll come out ahead. If not—well, I’ve had significantly
bigger losses in my day.”