“I’llgetrighttothepointinthatcase.Thisisnogame.IaskyoutolistentowhatIhavetosayandthenmakeupyourmind.You’reajournalist,andIwanttogiveyouafreelanceassignment.Annahasservedcoffeeupstairsinmyoffice.”
Theofficewasarectangleofmorethan1,300squarefeet.Onewallwasdominatedbyafloor-to-ceilingshelfthirtyfeetlongcontainingaremarkableassortmentofliterature:biographies,history,businessandindustry,andA4binders.Theswerearrangedinnoapparentorder.Itlookedlikeashelfthatwasused.Theoppositewallwasdominatedbyadeskofdarkoak.Onthewallbehindthedeskwasalargecollectionofpressedflowersinneatmeticulousrows.
Throughthewindowinthegablethedeskhadaviewofthebridgeandthechurch.Therewasasofaandcoffeetablewherethehousekeeperhadsetoutathermos,rolls,andpastries.
Vangergesturedtowardsthetray,butBlomkvistpretendednottosee;insteadhemadeatouroftheroom,firststudyingtheshelfandthenthewallofframedflowers.Thedeskwasorderly,onlyafewpapersinoneheap.Atitsedgewasasilver-framedphotographofadark-hairedgirl,beautifulbutwithamischievouslook;ayoungwomanonherwaytobeingdangerous,hethought.Itwasapparentlyaconfirmationportraitthathadfadedovertheyearsithadbeenthere.
“Doyourememberher,Mikael?”Vangersaid.
“Remember?”
“Yes,youmether.Andactuallyyouhavebeeninthisroombefore.”
Blomkvistturnedandshookhishead.
“No,howcouldyouremember?Iknewyourfather.IhiredKurtfirstasaninstallerandmachinistseveraltimesinthefiftiesandsixties.Hewasatalentedman.Itriedtopersuadehimtokeepstudyingandbeeanengineer.Youwereherethewholesummerof1963,whenweputnewmachineryinthepapermillinHedestad.Itwashardtofindaplaceforyourfamilytolive,sowesolveditbylettingyouliveinthewoodenhouseacrosstheroad.Youcanseeitfromthewindow.”
Vangerpickedupthephotograph.
“ThisisHarrietVanger,granddaughterofmybrotherRichard.Shetookcareofyoumanytimesthatsummer.Youweretwo,goingonthree.Maybeyouwerealreadythreethen—Idon’trecall.Shewasthirteen.”
“Iamsorry,butIdon’thavetheleastrecollectionofwhatyou’retellingme.”Blom