“Of course I want to see her.”
Blomkvist found Harriet by the lift in the lobby. At first he did not recognise her.
Since they had parted at Arlanda Airport the night before she had dyed her hair
brown again. She was dressed in black trousers, a white blouse, and an elegant
grey jacket. She looked radiant, and Blomkvist bent down to give her an
encouraging hug.
Henrik got up from his chair when Mikael opened the door. She took a deep breath.
“Hi, Henrik,” she said.
The old man scrutinised her from top to toe. Then Harriet went over and kissed
him. Blomkvist nodded to Frode and closed the door.
Salander was not in the cottage when Blomkvist returned to Hedeby Island. The
video equipment and her motorcycle were gone, as well as the bag with her extra
clothes and her sponge bag. The cottage felt empty. It suddenly seemed alien and
unreal. He looked at the stacks of paper in the office, which he would have to pack
up in boxes and carry back to Henrik’s house. But he could not face starting the
process. He drove to Konsum and bought bread, milk, cheese, and something for
supper. When he returned he put on water for coffee, sat in the garden, and read
the evening papers without thinking of anything else.
At 5:30 a taxi drove across the bridge. After three minutes it went back the way it
came. Blomkvist caught a glimpse of Isabella Vanger in the back seat.
Around 7:00 he had dozed off in the garden chair when Frode woke him up.
“How’s it going with Henrik and Harriet?” he said.
“This unhappy cloud has its silver lining,” Frode said with a restrained smile.
“Isabella, would you believe, came rushing into Henrik’s hospital room. She’d
obviously seen that you’d come back and was completely beside herself. She
screamed at him that there had to be an end to this outrageous fuss about her
Harriet, adding that you were the one who drove her son to his death with your
snooping.”