instructions to start a programme that Salander had written especially for this
purpose.
In Honolulu the programme came to life on an anonymous home page on a server
that was officially located at the university. The programme was simple. Its only
function was to send instructions to start another programme in another server,
which in this case was a perfectly ordinary commercial ISP offering Internet services
in Holland. The function of that programme, in turn, was to look for the mirrored
hard drive belonging to Hans-Erik Wennerström and take command of the
programme that showed the contents of his approximately 3,000 bank accounts
around the world.
There was only one account of any interest. Salander had noted that Wennerström
looked at the account a couple of times each week. If he turned on his computer
and looked at that particular file, everything would appear to be normal. The
programme showed small changes, which were to be expected, based on normal
fluctuations in the account during the past six months. If during the next forty-
eight hours Wennerström should go in and ask to have the funds paid out or
moved from the account, the programme would dutifully report that it had been
done. In reality, the change would have occurred only on the mirrored hard drive in
Holland.
Monica Sholes switched off her mobile the moment she heard four short tones
confirming that the programme had started.
She left the Zimmertal Hotel and walked over to Bank Hauser General, across the
street, where she had made an appointment to see Herr Wagner, the general
manager, at 10:00. She was there three minutes ahead of schedule, and she spent
the waiting time posing in front of the surveillance camera, which took her picture
as she walked into the department with offices for discreet private consultations.
“I need some assistance with a number of transactions,” she said in Oxford English.
When she opened her briefcase, she let drop a pen from the Zimmertal Hotel, and
Herr Wagner politely retrieved it for her. She gave him an arch smile and wrote an
account number on the notepad on the desk in front of her.
Herr Wagner pigeonholed her as the spoiled daughter, or possibly mistress, of
some bigshot.