“Well, she’s right, in a way.”
“She commanded Henrik to dismiss you forthwith and run you off the property for
good. And would he, once and for all, stop searching for ghosts.”
“Wow!”
“She didn’t even glance at the woman sitting beside the bed talking to Henrik. She
must have thought it was one of the staff. I will never forget the moment when
Harriet stood up and said, ‘Hello, Mamma.’”
“What happened?”
“We had to call a doctor to check Isabella’s vital signs. Right now she’s refusing to
believe that it’s Harriet. You are accused of dragging in an impostor.”
Frode was on his way to visit Cecilia and Alexander to give them the news that
Harriet had risen from the dead. He hurried away, leaving Blomkvist to his solitary
musings.
Salander stopped and filled her tank at a petrol station north of Uppsala. She had
been riding doggedly, staring straight ahead. She paid quickly and got back on her
bike. She started it up and rode to the exit, where she stopped, undecided.
She was still in a terrible mood. She was furious when she left Hedeby, but her rage
had slowly dissolved during the ride. She could not make up her mind why she was
so angry with Blomkvist, or even if he was the one she was angry with.
She thought of Martin Vanger and Harriet Fucking Vanger and Dirch Fucking Frode
and the whole damned Vanger clan sitting in Hedestad reigning over their little
empire and plotting against each other. They had needed her help. Normally they
wouldn’t even have said hello to her in the street, let alone entrust her with their
repellent secrets.
Fucking riff-raff.
She took a deep breath and thought about her mother, whom she had consigned
to ashes that very morning. She would never be able to mend things. Her mother’s