"And you really think that this game will end up saving Millennium?" Magnusson said.
"I know it will. And Sonny, I want you to put together a fake report each month showing falling advertising sales and showing that the number of subscribers has also dropped."
"This sounds fun," Nilsson said. "Should we keep it internal here in the office, or should we leak it to other media too?"
"Keep it internal. If the story shows up anywhere, we'll know who put it there. In a very few months, if anyone asks us about it, we'll be able to tell them: you've been listening to baseless rumours, and we've never considered closing Millennium down. The best thing that could happen is for Dahlman to go out and tip off the other mass media. If you're able to give Dahlman a tip about a plausible but fundamentally idiotic story, so much the better."
They spent an hour concocting a script and dividing up the various roles.
***
After the meeting Blomkvist had coffee with Malm at Java on Horngatspuckeln.
"Christer, it's really important that you pick up Erika at the airport and fill her in. You have to convince her to play along with the game. If I know her, she'll want to confront Dahlman instantly - but that can't happen. I don't want Wennerstrom to hear any kind of buzz and then manage to bury the evidence."
"Will do."
"And see to it that Erika stays away from her email until she installs the PGP encryption programme and learns how to use it. It's pretty likely that through Dahlman, Wennerstrom is able to read everything we email to each other. I want you and everyone else in the editorial offices to install PGP. Do it in a natural way. Get the name of a computer consultant to contact and have him come over to inspect the network and all the computers in the office. Let him install the software as if it were a perfectly natural part of the service."
"I'll do my best. But Mikael - what are you working on?"
"Wennerstrom."
"What exactly?"
"For the time being, that has to remain my secret."
Malm looked uncomfortable. "I've always trusted you, Mikael. Does this mean that you don't trust me?"
Blomkvist laughed.
"Of course I trust you. But right now I'm involved in rather serious criminal activities that could get me two years in prison. It's the nature of my research that's a little dubious... I'm playing with the same underhand methods as Wennerstrom uses. I don't want you or Erika or anyone else at Millennium to be involved in any way."
"You're making me awfully nervous."
"Stay cool, Christer, and tell Erika that the story is going to be a big one. Really big."
"Erika will insist on knowing what you're working on..."
Mikael thought for a second. Then he smiled.
"Tell her that she made it very clear to me in the spring when she signed a contract with Henrik Vanger behind my back that I'm now just an ordinary mortal freelancer who no longer sits on the board and has no influence on Millennium policy. Which means that I no longer have any obligation to keep her informed. But I promise that if she behaves herself, I'll give her first option on the story."
"She's going to go through the roof," Malm said cheerfully.
Blomkvist knew that he had not been entirely honest with Malm. He was deliberately avoiding Berger. The most natural thing would have been to contact her at once and tell her about the information in his possession. But he did not want to talk to her. A dozen times he had stood with his mobile in his hand, starting to call her. Each time he changed his mind.
He knew what the problem was. He could not look her in the eyes.
The cover-up in which he had participated in Hedestad was unforgivable from a professional point of view. He had no idea how he could explain it to her without lying, and if there was one thing he had never thought of doing, it was lying to Erika Berger.
Above all, he did not have the energy to deal with that problem at the same time as he was tackling Wennerstrom. So he put off seeing her, turned off his mobile, and avoided talking to her. But he knew that the reprieve could only be temporary.
Right after the editorial meeting, Mikael moved out to his cabin in Sandhamn; he hadn't been there in over a year. His baggage included two boxes of printouts and the CDs that Salander had given him. He stocked up on food, locked the door, opened his iBook, and started writing. Each day he took a short walk, bought the newspapers, and shopped for groceries. The guest marina was still filled with yachts, and young people who had borrowed their father's boat were usually sitting in the Divers' Bar, drinking themselves silly. Blomkvist scarcely took in his surroundings. He sat in front of his computer more or less from the moment he opened his eyes until he fell into bed at night, exhausted.
Encrypted email from editor in chief ?[email protected] /* */ "> to publisher on leave of absence ?[email protected] /* */ :
Mikael. I want to know what's going on - good grief, I've come back from holiday to total chaos. The news about Janne Dahlman and this double game you've come up with. Martin Vanger dead. Harriet Vanger alive. What's going on in Hedeby? Where are you? Is there a story? Why don't you answer your mobile?/E.
P.S. I understood the insinuation that Christer relayed with such glee. You're going to have to eat your words. Are you seriously cross with me?
P.P.S. I am trusting you for the time being, but you are going to have to give proof - you remember, the stuff that stands up in court - on J.D.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Hi Ricky. No, for God's sake, I'm not cross. Forgive me for not keeping you updated, but the past few months of my life have been topsy-turvy. I'll tell you everything when we see each other, but not by email. I'm at Sandhamn. There is a story, but the story is not Harriet Vanger. I'm going to be glued to my computer here for a while. Then it'll be over. Trust me. Hugs and kisses. M.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Sandhamn? I'm coming to see you immediately.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Not right now. Wait a couple of weeks, at least until I've got the story organised. Besides, I'm expecting company.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
In that case, of course I'll stay away. But I have to know what's going on. Henrik Vanger has become CEO again, and he doesn't answer my calls. If the deal with Vanger is off, I absolutely need to know. Ricky.
P.S. Who is she?From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?
First of all: no question of Henrik pulling out. But he is still working only a short day, and I'm guessing that the chaos after Martin's death and Harriet's resurrection is taking its toll on his strength.
Second: Millennium will survive. I'm working on the most important report of our lives, and when we publish it, it's going to sink Wennerstrom once and for all.
Third: my life is up and down right now, but as for you and me and Millennium - nothing has changed. Trust me. Kisses/Mikael.
P.S. I'll introduce you as soon as an opportunity presents itself.
When Salander went out to Sandhamn she found an unshaven and hollow-eyed Blomkvist, who gave her a quick hug and asked her to make some coffee and wait while he finished what he was writing.
Salander looked around his cabin and decided almost at once that she liked it. It was right next to a jetty, with the water three paces from the door. It was only fifteen by eighteen feet but it had such a high ceiling that there was space for a sleeping loft. She could stand up straight there, just. Blomkvist would have to stoop. The bed was wide enough for both of them.
The cabin had one large window facing the water, right next to the front door. That was where his kitchen table stood, doubling as his desk. On the wall near the desk was a shelf with a CD player and a big collection of Elvis and hard rock, which was not Salander's first choice.
In a corner was a woodstove made of soapstone with a glazed front. The rest of the sparse furnishings consisted of a large wardrobe for clothes and linen and a sink that also functioned as a washing alcove behind a shower curtain. Near the sink was a small window on one side of the cabin. Under the spiral stairs to the loft Blomkvist had built a separate space for a composting toilet. The whole cabin was arranged like the cabin on a boat, with clever cubbyholes for stowing things.
During her personal investigation of Mikael Blomkvist, Salander had found out that he had remodelled the cabin and built the furniture himself - a conclusion drawn from the comments of an acquaintance who had sent Mikael an email after visiting Sandhamn and was impressed by his handiwork. Everything was clean, unpretentious, and simple, bordering on spartan. She could see why he loved this cabin in Sandhamn so much.
After two hours she managed to distract Mikael enough that he turned off his computer in frustration, shaved, and took her out for a guided tour. It was raining and windy, and they quickly retreated to the inn. Blomkvist told her what he was writing, and Salander gave him a CD with updates from Wennerstrom's computer.
Then she took him up to the loft and managed to get his clothes off and distract him even further. She woke up late that night to find herself alone. She peered down from the loft and saw him sitting hunched over his computer. She lay there for a long time, leaning on one hand, watching him. He seemed happy, and she too felt strangely content with life.
Salander stayed only five days before she went back to Stockholm to do a job for Armansky. She spent eleven days on the assignment, made her report, and then returned to Sandhamn. The stack of printed pages next to Mikael's iBook was growing.
This time she stayed for four weeks. They fell into a routine. They got up at 8:00, ate breakfast, and spent an hour together. Then Mikael worked intently until late in the afternoon, when they took a walk and talked. Salander spent most of the days in bed, either reading books or surfing the Net using Blomkvist's ADSL modem. She tried not to disturb him during the day. They ate dinner rather late and only then did Salander take the initiative and force him up to the sleeping loft, where she saw to it that he devoted all his attention to her.
It was as if she were on the very first holiday of her life.
Encrypted email from ?erika.berger[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Hi M. It's now official. Janne Dahlman has resigned and starts working at Monopoly Financial Magazine in three weeks. I've done as you asked and said nothing, and everyone is going around playing monkey games. E.
P.S. They seem to be having fun. Henry and Lotta had a fight and started throwing things at each other a couple of days ago. They've been messing with Dahlman's head so blatantly that I can't understand how he can miss seeing that it's all a put-up job.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Wish him good luck from me, will you, and let him go straight away. But lock up the silverware. Hugs and kisses/M.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
I have no managing editor two weeks before we go to press, and my investigative reporter is sitting out in Sandhamn refusing to talk to me. Micke, I'm on my knees. Can you come in? Erika.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Hold out another couple of weeks, then we'll be home free. And start planning for a December issue that's going to be unlike anything we've ever done. The piece will take up 40 pages. M.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
40 PAGES!!! Are you out of your mind?
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
It's going to be a special issue. I need three more weeks. Could you do the following: (1) register a publishing company under the Millennium name, (2) get an ISBN number, (3) ask Christer to put together a cool logo for our new publishing company, and (4) find a good printer that can produce a paperback quickly and cheaply. And by the way, we're going to need capital to print our first book. Kisses/Mikael.
From ?[email protected] /* */ ?
To ?[email protected] /* */ ?:
Special issue. Book publisher. Money. Yes, master. Anything else I can do for you? Dance naked at Slussplan?/E.
P.S. I assume you know what you're doing. But what do I do about Dahlman?
From ?[email protected] /* */