expression of sympathy. She had saved his life, and now she had tracked him out
here in the night. He put an arm around her.
“Now I know what my price is,” he said. “We’ve forsaken those girls. They’re going
to bury the whole story. Everything in Martin’s basement will be vacuumed into
oblivion.”
Salander did not answer.
“Erika was right,” he said. “I would have done more good if I’d gone to Spain for a
month and then come home refreshed and taken on Wennerström. I’ve wasted all
these months.”
“If you’d gone to Spain, Martin Vanger would still be operating in his basement.”
They sat together for a long time before he suggested that they go home.
Blomkvist fell asleep before Salander. She lay awake listening to him breathe. After
a while she went to the kitchen and sat in the dark on the kitchen bench, smoking
several cigarettes as she brooded. She had taken it for granted that Vanger and
Frode might con him. It was in their nature. But it was Blomkvist’s problem, not
hers. Or was it?
At last she made a decision. She stubbed out her cigarette and went into the
bedroom, turned on the lamp, and shook Mikael awake. It was 2:30 in the morning.
“What?”
“I’ve got a question. Sit up.”
Blomkvist sat up, drunk with sleep.
“When you were indicted, why didn’t you defend yourself?”
Blomkvist rubbed his eyes. He looked at the clock.
“It’s a long story, Lisbeth.”
“I’ve got time. Tell me.”