Blomkvist gave her a long look. Then he turned and got into the car and started the
engine. He wound down the window. Her hostility was palpable.
“I want to be your friend,” he said. “If you want otherwise, then you don’t need to
be here when I get home.”
Henrik Vanger was sitting up, dressed, when Dirch Frode let him into the hospital
room.
“They’re thinking of letting me out for Martin’s funeral tomorrow.”
“How much has Dirch told you?”
Henrik looked down at the floor.
“He told me about what Martin and Gottfried got up to. This is far, far worse than I
could have imagined.”
“I know what happened to Harriet.”
“Tell me: how did she die?”
“She didn’t die. She’s still alive. And if you like, she really wants to see you.”
Both men stared at him as if their world had just been turned upside down.
“It took a while to convince her to come, but she’s alive, she’s doing fine, and she’s
here in Hedestad. She arrived this morning and can be here in an hour. If you want
to see her, that is.”
Blomkvist had to tell the story from beginning to end. A couple of times Henrik
interrupted with a question or asked him to repeat something. Frode said not a
word.
When the story was done, Henrik sat in silence. Blomkvist had been afraid that it
would be too much for the old man, but Henrik showed no sign of emotion, except
that his voice might have been a bit thicker when he broke his silence