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龙纹身的女孩

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rblackcamisole,thetattoos,andtheringspiercingherface,Salanderlookedoutofplace,tosaytheleast,inaguestcottageinHedeby.Whenhetriedtobesociableoverdinner,shewastaciturntothepointofrudeness.Butwhenshewasworkingshesoundedlikeaprofessionaltoherfingertips.HerapartmentinStockholmmightlookasifabombhadgoneoffinit,butmentallySalanderwasextremelywellanised.

    “It’shardtoseetheconnectionbetweenaprostituteinUddevallawho’skilledinanindustrialyardandapastor’swifewhoisstrangledinRonnebyandhasherhousesetonfire.Ifyoudon’thavethekeythatHarrietgaveus,thatis.”

    “Whichleadstothenextquestion,”Salandersaid.

    “HowonearthdidHarrietgetmixedupinallthis?Asixteen-year-oldgirlwholivedinareallyshelteredenvironment.”

    “There’sonlyoneanswer,”Salandersaid.“TheremustbesomeconnectiontotheVangerfamily.”

    By11:00thatnighttheyhadgoneovertheseriesofmurdersanddiscussedtheconceivableconnectionsandthetinydetailsofsimilarityanddifferencesooftenthatBlomkvist’sheadwasspinning.HerubbedhiseyesandstretchedandaskedSalanderifshefeltlikeawalk.Herexpressionsuggestedthatshethoughtsuchpracticeswereawasteoftime,butsheagreed.Blomkvistadvisedhertochangeintolongtrousersbecauseofthemosquitoes.

    Theystrolledpastthesmall-boatharbourandthenunderthebridgeandouttowardsMartinVanger’spoint.Blomkvistpointedoutthevarioushousesandtoldheraboutthepeoplewholivedinthem.HehadsomedifficultywhentheycametoCeciliaVanger’shouse.Salandergavehimacuriouslook.

    TheypassedMartinVanger’smotoryachtandreachedthepoint,andtheretheysatonarockandsharedacigarette.

    “There’sonemoreconnection,”Blomkvistsaidsuddenly.“Maybeyou’vealreadythoughtofit.”

    “What?”

    “Theirnames.”

    Salanderthoughtforamomentandshookherhead.

    “They’reallBiblicalnames.”

    “Nottrue,”shesaid.“WhereisthereaLivorLenaintheBible?”

    “Theyarethere.Livmeanstolive,inotherwordsEva.Andeon—what’sLenashortfor?”

    Salandergrimacedinannoyance.Hehadbeenquickerthanshewas.Shedidnotlikethat.

    “Magdalena,”shesaid.

   

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