“Yes.”
“So you encroached on my integrity. My employer doesn’t need to know who I
have sex with. That’s my business.”
Salander’s face was creased by a crooked smile.
“You think I shouldn’t have mentioned that?”
“In my case it didn’t make a lot of difference. Half the city knows about my
relationship with Erika. But it’s a matter of principle.”
“In that case, it might amuse you to know that I also have principles comparable to
your ethics committee’s. I call them Salander’s Principles. One of them is that a
bastard is always a bastard, and if I can hurt a bastard by digging up shit about him,
then he deserves it.”
“OK,” Blomkvist said. “My reasoning isn’t too different from yours, but...”
“But the thing is that when I do a PI, I also look at what I think about the person. I’m
not neutral. If the person seems like a good sort, I might tone down my report.”
“Really?”
“In your case I toned it down. I could have written a book about your sex life. I could
have mentioned to Frode that Erika Berger has a past in Club Xtreme and played
around with BDSM in the eighties—which would have prompted certain
unavoidable notions about your sex life and hers.”
Blomkvist met Salander’s gaze. After a moment he laughed.
“You’re really meticulous, aren’t you? Why didn’t you put it in the report?”
“You are adults who obviously like each other. What you do in bed is nobody’s
business, and the only thing I would have achieved by talking about her was to
hurt both of you, or to provide someone with blackmail material. I don’t know
Frode—the information could have ended up with Wennerström.”
“And you don’t want to provide Wennerström with information?”
“If I had to choose between you and him, I’d probably end up in your court.”