“it’sbleedinglikehell,butit’snotdangerous,”blokvistsaidbeforeshecouldask.
sheturnedandgotthefirst-aidkitfrothecupboard；itcontainedtwopacketsofelasticbandages,aosquitostick,andalittlerollofsurgicaltape.hepulledoffhisclothesanddroppedtheonthefloor；thenhewenttothebathroo.
thewoundonhisteplewasagashsodeepthathecouldliftupabigflapofflesh.itwasstillbleedinganditneededstitches,buthethoughtitwouldprobablyhealifhetapeditclosed.heranatowelunderthecoldtapandwipedhisface.
heheldthetowelagainsthisteplewhilehestoodundertheshowerandclosedhiseyes.thenheslaedhisfistagainstthetilesohardthathescrapedhisknuckles.fuckyou,whoeveryouare,hethought.i’goingtofindyou,andiwillgetyou.
whensalandertouchedhisarhejupedasifhehadhadanelectricshockandstaredatherwithsuchangerinhiseyesthatshetookastepback.shehandedhithesoapandwentbacktothekitchenwithoutaword.
heputonthreestripsofsurgicaltape.hewentintothebedroo,pulledonacleanpairofjeansandanewt-shirt,takingthefolderofprinted-outphotographswithhi.hewassofurioushewasalostshaking.
“stayhere,lisbeth,”heshouted.
hewalkedovertoceciliavanger’shouseandrangthedoorbell.itwashalfainutebeforesheopenedthedoor.
“idon’twanttoseeyou,”shesaid.thenshesawhisface,wherebloodwasalreadyseepingthroughthetape.
“letein.wehavetotalk.”
shehesitated.“wehavenothingtotalkabout.”
“wedonow,andyoucandiscussithereonthestepsorinthekitchen.”
blokvist’stonewassodeterinedthatceciliasteppedbackandlethiin.hesatatherkitchentable.
“whathaveyoudone？”shesaid.
“youclaithatydiggingforthetruthaboutharrietvangerissoefutileforofoupationaltherapyforhenrik.that’spossible,butanhouragosoeonebloodynearlyshotyheadoff,andlastnightsoeone—aybethesaehuourist—leftahorriblydeadcatonyporch.”
ceciliaopenedherouth,butblokvistcutheroff.
“cecilia,idon’tgiveashitaboutyourhang-upsorwhatyouworryaboutorthefactthatyousuddenlyhatethesightofe.i’llneverenearyouagain,andyoudon’thavetoworrythati’goingtobotheryouorrunafteryou.rightthisinuteiwishi’dneverheardofyouoranyoneelseinthevangerfaily.butirequireanswerstoyquestions.thesooneryouanswerthe,thesooneryou’llberidofe.”
“whatdoyouwanttoknow？”
“nuberone:wherewereyouanhourago？”
cecilia’sfacecloudedover.
“anhouragoiwasinhedestad.”
“cananyoneconfirwhereyouwere？”
“notthaticanthinkof,andidon’thavetoaounttoyou.”
“nubertwo:whydidyouopenthewindowinharriet’sroothedayshedisappeared？”
“what？”
“youhearde.foralltheseyearshenrikhastriedtoworkoutwhoopenedthewindowinharriet’srooduringthosecriticalinutes.everybodyhasdenieddoingit.soeoneislying.”
“andwhatinhellakesyouthinkitwase？”
“thispicture,”blokvistsaid,andflungtheblurryphotographontoherkitchentable.
ceciliawalkedovertothetableandstudiedthepicture.blokvistthoughthecouldreadshockonherface.shelookedupathi.hefeltatrickleofbloodrundownhischeekanddropontohisshirt.
“thereweresixtypeopleontheislandthatday,”hesaid.“andtwenty-eightofthewerewoen.fiveorsixofthehadshoulder-lengthblondehair.onlyoneofthosewaswearingalight-coloureddress.”
shestaredintentlyatthephotograph.
“andyouthinkthat’ssupposedtobee？”
“ifitisn’tyou,i’dlikeyoutotellewhoyouthinkitis.nobodyknewaboutthispicturebefore.i’vehaditforweeksandtriedtotalktoyouaboutit.iaybeanidiot,butihaven’tshowedittohenrikoranyoneelsebecausei’deathlyafraidofcastingsuspiciononyouordoingyouwrong.butidohavetohaveananswer.”
“you’llgetyouranswer.”sheheldoutthephotographtohi.“ididn’tgointoharriet’sroothatday.it’snoteinthepicture.ididn’thavetheslightestthingtodowithherdisappearance.”
shewenttothefrontdoor.
“youhaveyouranswer.nowpleasego.butithinkyoushouldhaveadoctorlookatthatwound.”
salanderdrovehitohedestadhospital.ittookonlytwostitchesandagooddressingtoclosethewound.hewasgivencortisonesalvefortherashfrothestingingtlesonhisneckandhands.
aftertheyleftthehospitalblokvistsatforalongtiewonderingwhetherheoughttogotothepolice.hecouldseetheheadlinesnow.“libeljournalistinshootingdraa.”heshookhishead.“let’sgohoe,”hesaid.
itwasdarkwhentheyarrivedbackathedebyisland,andthatsuitedsalanderfine.sheliftedasportsbagontothekitchentable.
“iborrowedthisstufffromiltonsecurity,andit’stieweadeuseofit.”
sheplantedfourbattery-operatedotiondetectorsaroundthehouseandexplainedthatifanyonecaecloserthantwentyfeet,aradiosignalwouldtriggerasallchirpingalarthatshesetupinblokvist’sbedroo.atthesaetie,twolight-sensitivevideocaerasthatshehadputintreesatthefrontandbackofthecabinwouldsendsignalstoapcla. comthatshesetinthecupboardbythefrontdoor.shecaouflagedthecaeraswithdarkcloth.
sheputathirdcaerainabirdhouseabovethedoor.shedrilledaholerightthroughthewallforthecable.thelenswasaiedattheroadandthepathfrothegatetothefrontdoor.ittookalow-resolutioniageeverysecondandstoredtheallontheharddriveofanotherpcla. cominthewardrobe.
thensheputapressure-sensitivedooratintheentrance.ifsoeoneanagedtoevadetheinfrareddetectorsandgotintothehouse,15-decibelsirenwouldgooff.salanderdeonstratedforhihowtoshutoffthedetectorswithakeytoaboxinthewardrobe.shehadalsoborrowedanight-visionscope.
“youdon’tleavealottochance,”blokvistsaid,pouringcoffeeforher.
“oneorething.noorejogginguntilwecrackthis.”
“believee,i’velostallinterestinexercise.”
“i’notjoking.thisayhavestartedoutasahistoricalystery,butwhatwithdeadcatsandpeopletryingtoblowyourheadoffwecanbesurewe’reonsoebody’strail.”
theyatedinnerlate.blokvistwassuddenlydeadtiredandhadasplittingheadache.hecouldhardlytalkanyore,sohewenttobed.
salanderstayedupreadingthereportuntil2:00.
chapter23
friday,july11
heawokeat6:00withthesunshiningthroughagapinthecurtainsrightinhisface.hehadavagueheadache,andithurtwhenhetouchedthebandage.salanderwasasleeponherstoachwithonearflungoverhi.helookeddownatthedragononhershoulderblade.
hecountedhertattoos.aswellasawasponherneck,shehadalooparoundoneankle,anotherlooparoundthebicepsofherleftar,achinesesybolonherhip,andaroseononecalf.
hegotoutofbedandpulledthecurtainstight.hewenttothebathrooandthenpaddedbacktobed,tryingtogetinwithoutwakingher.
acoupleofhourslateroverbreakfastblokvistsaid,“howarewegoingtosolvethispuzzle？”
“wesuupthefactswehave.wetrytofindore.”
“fore,theonlyquestionis:why？isitbecausewe’retryingtosolvetheysteryaboutharriet,orbecausewe’veuncoveredahithertounknownserialkiller？”
“thereustbeaconnection,”salandersaid.“ifharrietrealisedthattherewasaserialkiller,itcanonlyhavebeensoeonesheknew.ifwelookatthecastofcharactersinthesixties,therewereatleasttwodozenpossiblecandidates.todayhardlyanyoftheareleftexceptharaldvanger,whoisnotrunningaroundinthewoodsoffr？skogenatalostniy-threewithagun.everybodyiseithertoooldtobeofanydangertoday,ortooyoungtohavebeenaroundinthefifties.sowe’rebacktosquareone.”
“unlesstherearetwopeoplewhoarecollaborating.oneolderandoneyounger.”
“haraldandcecilia？idon’tthinkso.ithinkshewastellingthetruthwhenshesaidthatshewasn’tthepersoninthewindow.”
“thenwhowasthat？”
theyturnedonblokvist’siandspentthenexthourstudyingindetailonceagainallthepeoplevisibleinthephotographsoftheaidentonthebridge.
“icanonlyassuethateveryoneinthevillageusthavebeendownthere,watchingalltheexciteent.itwassepteber.mostofthearewearingjacketsorsweaters.onlyonepersonhaslongblondehairandalight-coloureddress.”
“ceciliavangerisinalotofthepictures.sheseestobeeverywhere.betweenthebuildingsandthepeoplewhoarelookingattheaident.hereshe’stalkingtoisabella.hereshe’sstandingnexttopastorfalk.hereshe’swithgregervanger,theiddlebrother.”
“waitainute,”blokvistsaid.“whatdoesgregerhaveinhishand？”
“soethingsquare-shaped.itlookslikeaboxofsoekind.”
“it’sahasselblad.sohetoohadacaera.”
theyscrolledthroughthephotographsoneoretie.gregerwasinoreofthe,thoughoftenblurry.inoneitcouldbeclearlyseenthathewasholdingasquare-shapedbox.
