“Anita, you were in Harriet’s room that day. I have photographic proof of it, in spite
of what you said to Inspector Morell. In a few days I’m going to report to Henrik,
and he’ll take it from there. It would be better to tell me what happened.”
Anita Vanger stood up.
“Get out of my house this minute.”
Blomkvist got up.
“Sooner or later you’re going to have to talk to me.”
“I have nothing now, nor ever will have, anything to say to you.”
“Martin is dead,” Blomkvist said. “You never liked Martin. I think that you moved to
London not only to avoid seeing your father but also so that you wouldn’t have to
see Martin. That means that you also knew about Martin, and the only one who
could have told you was Harriet. The question is: what did you do with that
knowledge?”
Anita Vanger slammed her front door in his face.
Salander smiled with satisfaction as she unfastened the microphone from under his
shirt.
“She picked up the telephone about twenty seconds after she nearly took the door
off its hinges,” she said.
“The country code is Australia,” Trinity said, putting down the earphones on the
little desk in the van. “I need to check the area code.” He switched on his laptop.
“OK, she called the following number, which is a telephone in a town called
Tennant Creek, north of Alice Springs in the Northern Territory. Do you want to
hear the conversation?”
Blomkvist nodded. “What time is it in Australia right now?”
“About 5:00 in the morning.” Trinity started the digital player and attached a
speaker. Mikael counted eight rings before someone picked up the telephone. The
conversation took place in English.