“You could have done that at the trial.”
“We chose not to do so. But our investigative journalism will continue as before.”
“Does that mean you’re holding to the story that prompted the indictment?”
“I have nothing more to say on that subject.”
“You sacked Mikael Blomkvist after the verdict was delivered.”
“That is inaccurate. Read our press release. He needed a break. He’ll be back as CEO
and publisher later this year.”
The camera panned through the newsroom while the reporter quickly recounted
background information on Millennium’s stormy history as an original and
outspoken magazine. Blomkvist was not available for comment. He had just been
shut up in Rullåker Prison, about an hour from Östersund in Jämtland.
Salander noticed Dirch Frode at the edge of the TV screen passing a doorway in the
editorial offices. She frowned and bit her lower lip in thought.
That Monday had been a slow news day, and Vanger got a whole four minutes on
the 9:00 news. He was interviewed in a TV studio in Hedestad. The reporter began
by stating that after two decades of having stood back from the spotlight the
industrialist Henrik Vanger was back. The segment began with a snappy biography
in black-and-white TV images, showing him with Prime Minister Erlander and
opening factories in the sixties. The camera then focused on a studio sofa where
Vanger was sitting perfectly relaxed. He wore a yellow shirt, narrow green tie, and
comfortable dark-brown suit. He was gaunt, but he spoke in a clear, firm voice. And
he was also quite candid. The reporter asked Vanger what had prompted him to
become a part owner of Millennium.
“It’s an excellent magazine which I have followed with great interest for several
years. Today the publication is under attack. It has enemies who are organising an
advertising boycott, trying to run it into the ground.”
The reporter was not prepared for this, but guessed at once that the already
unusual story had yet more unexpected aspects.