“I don’t want one single krona from you, unless it comes in the form of presents on
my birthday.”
“Come to think of it, I don’t even know when your birthday is.”
“You’re a journalist. Check it out.”
“I’m serious, Lisbeth. About splitting the money.”
“I’m serious too. I only want to borrow it, and I need it tomorrow.”
She didn’t even ask how much her share would be. “I’ll be happy to go to the bank
with you today and lend you the amount you need. But at the end of the year let’s
have another talk about your share.” He held up his hand. “And by the way, when is
your birthday?”
“On Walpurgis Night,” she replied. “Very fitting, don’t you think? That’s when I gad
around with a broom between my legs.”
She landed in Zürich at 7:30 in the evening and took a taxi to the Matterhorn Hotel.
She had booked a room under the name of Irene Nesser, and she identified herself
using a Norwegian passport in that name. Irene Nesser had shoulder-length blonde
hair. Salander had bought a wig in Stockholm and used 10,000 kronor of what she
had borrowed from Blomkvist to buy two passports through one of the contacts in
Plague’s international network.
She went to her room, locked the door, and got undressed. She lay on the bed and
looked up at the ceiling in the room that cost 1,600 kronor per night. She felt
empty. She had already run through half the sum she’d borrowed, and even
though she had added in every krona of her own savings, she was still on a tight
budget. She stopped thinking and fell asleep almost at once.
She awoke just after 5:00 in the morning. She showered and spent a long time
masking the tattoo on her neck with a thick layer of skin-coloured lotion and
powder over it. The second item on her checklist was to make an appointment at
the beauty salon in the lobby of a significantly more expensive hotel for 6:30 that
morning. She bought another blonde wig, this one in a page-boy style, and then
she had a manicure, getting pink nails attached to her own chewed ones. She also