edherjacketpocketandhandedhimfivethousandkronor.
“It’sallIcanspare.It’smyownmoney,andIcan’treallydeductyouasadependant.”
“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Theelectroniuffyoutalkedabouttwomonthsago.Didyougetit?”
Hesmiledandlaidaboxonthetable.
“Showmehowitworks.”
Forthenextfewminutesshelistenedintently.Thenshetestedthecuff.Plaguemightbeasocialinpetent,buthewasunquestionablyagenius.
VangerwaiteduntilheoncemorehadBlomkvist’sattention.Blomkvistlookedathiswatchandsaid,“Oneperplexingdetail.”
Vangersaid:“IwasbornonNovember1.WhenHarrietwaseightshegavemeabirthdaypresent,apressedflower,framed.”
Vangerwalkedaroundthedeskandpointedtothefirstflower.Bluebell.Ithadanamateurishmounting.
“Thatwasthefirst.Igotitin1958.”Hepointedtothenextone.“1959.”Buttercup.“1960.”Daisy.“Itbecameatradition.Shewouldmaketheframesometimeduringthesummerandsaveituntilmybirthday.Ialwayshungthemonthewallinthisroom.In1966shedisappearedandthetraditionwasbroken.”
Vangerpointedtoagapintherowofframes.Blomkvistfeltthehairsriseonthebackofhisneck.Thewallwasfilledwithpressedflowers.
“1967,ayearaftershedisappeared,Ireceivedthisfloweronmybirthday.It’saviolet.”
“Howdidthefloweretoyou?”
“WrappedinwhattheycallgiftpaperandpostedinapaddedenvelopefromStockholm.Noreturnaddress.Nomessage.”
“Youmeanthat…”Blomkvistmadeasweepinggesture.
“Precisely.Onmybirthdayeverydamnyear.Doyouknowhowthatfeels?It’sdirectedatme,preciselyasifthemurdererwantstotortureme.I’veworriedmyselfsickoverwhetherHarrietmighthavebeentakenawaybecausesomeonewantedtogetatme.ItwasnosecretthatsheandIhadaspecialrelationshipandthatIthoughtofherasmyowndaughter.”
“Sowhatisityouwantmetodo?”Blomkvistsaid.
WhenSalanderreturnedtheCorollatothegarageunderMiltonSecurity,shemadesuretogotothetoiletupstairsintheoffice.Sheusedhercardkeyinthedoorandtooktheliftstraightuptothethirdfloortoavoidgoinginthroughthemainentranceonthesecondfloor,wherethedutyofficerworked.Sheusedthet