“We’ve sort of put our relationship on hold for a while.”
“So I understand, but it’s still none of my business. How’s your work coming along?”
Blomkvist poured himself a cup of coffee from Vanger’s thermos.
“I think I’ve found some new material.”
He took his iBook out of his shoulder bag and scrolled through the series of images
showing how Harriet had reacted on Järnvägsgatan. He explained how he had
found the other spectators with the camera and their car with the Norsjö Carpentry
Shop sign. When he was finished Vanger wanted to see all the pictures again. When
he looked up from the computer his face was grey. Blomkvist was suddenly
alarmed and put a hand on Vanger’s shoulder. Vanger waved him away and sat in
silence for a while.
“You’ve done what I thought was impossible. You’ve turned up something
completely new. What are you going to do next?”
“I am going to look for that snapshot, if it still exists.”
He did not mention the face in the window.
Harald Vanger had gone back to his cave by the time Blomkvist came out. When he
turned the corner he found someone quite different sitting on the porch of his
cottage, reading a newspaper. For a fraction of a second he thought it was Cecilia,
but the dark-haired girl on the porch was his daughter.
“Hi, Pappa,” Pernilla Abrahamsson said.
He gave his daughter a long hug.
“Where in the world did you spring from?”
“From home, of course. I’m on my way to Skellefteå. Can I stay the night?”
“Of course you can, but how did you get here?”