icksocksandtheborrowedbootsandpulledonanextrasweater.Atthefrontdoorhestoppedshort;hehadbeengivennokeystothehouse,andhisbig-cityinstinctsrebelledattheideaofleavingthefrontdoorunlocked.Hewentbacktothekitchenandbeganopeningdrawers.Finallyhefoundakeyhangingfromanailinthepantry.
Thetemperaturehaddroppedto-1°F.Hewalkedbrisklyacrossthebridgeandupthehillpastthechurch.TheKonsumstorewasconvenientlylocatedaboutthreehundredyardsaway.Hefilledtwopaperbagstooverflowingwithsuppliesandthencarriedthemhomebeforereturningacrossthebridge.ThistimehestoppedatSusanne’sBridgeCafé.Thewomanbehindthecounterwasinherfifties.HeaskedwhethershewasSusanneandthenintroducedhimselfbysayingthathewasundoubtedlygoingtobearegularcustomer.Hewasforthetimebeingtheonlycustomer,andSusanneofferedhimcoffeewhenheorderedsandwichesandboughtaloafofbread.HepickedupacopyoftheHedestadCourierfromthenewspaperrackandsatatatablewithaviewofthebridgeandthechurch,itsfacadenowlitup.ItlookedlikeaChristmascard.Ittookhimaboutfourminutestoreadthenewspaper.TheonlynewsofinterestwasabriefitemexplainingthatalocalpoliticianbythenameofBirgerVangerwasgoingtoinvestin“ITTechCent”—atechnologydevelopmentcentreinHedestad.Mikaelsatthereuntilthecaféclosedat6:00.
At7:30hecalledBerger,butwasadvisedthatthepartyatthatnumberwasnotavailable.Hesatonthekitchenbenchandtriedtoreadanovelwhich,aordingtothebackcovertext,wasthesensationaldebutofateenagefeminist.Thenovelwasabouttheauthor’sattempttogetahandleonhersexlifeduringatriptoParis,andBlomkvistwonderedwhetherhecouldbecalledafeministifhewroteanovelabouthisownsexlifeinthevoiceofahigh-schoolstudent.Probablynot.Hehadboughtthebecausethepublisherhadhailedthefirst-timenovelistas“anewCarinaRydberg.”Hequicklyascertainedthatthiswasnotthecaseineitherstyleorcontent.HeputtheasideforawhileandinsteadreadaHopalongCassidystoryinanissueofRekordmagasifromthemid-fifties.
Everyhalfhourheheardthecurt,mutedclangofthechurchbell.Lightswerevisibleinthewindowsatthehomeofthecaretakeracrosstheroad,butBlomkvistco