"That's good."
"But the present situation has arisen because you have been subject to a direct threat from a specific individual. That's much more serious. We don't know who this person is, what his motives are, or how far he's willing to go, but we can make a few assumptions. If it were just a matter of anonymous hate mail we would make a decreased threat assessment, but in this case a person has actually taken the trouble to drive to your house--and it's pretty far to Saltsjobaden--to carry out an attack. That is worrisome."
"I agree with you there."
"I talked with Dragan today, and we're of the same mind: until we know more about the person making the threat, we have to play it safe."
"Which means?"
"First of all, the alarm we installed today contains two components. On the one hand, it's an ordinary burglar alarm which is on when you're not at home, but it's also a sensor for the ground floor that you'll have to turn on when you're upstairs at night."
"Hmm."
"It's an inconvenience because you have to turn off the alarm every time you come downstairs."
"Understood."
"Second, we changed your bedroom door today."
"You changed the whole door?"
"Yes. We installed a steel safety door. Don't worry . . . it's painted white and looks just like a normal bedroom door. The difference is that it locks automatically when you close it. To open the door from the inside you just have to press down the handle as with any normal door. But to open the door from the outside, you have to enter a three-digit code on a plate on the door handle."
"And you did all this today?"
"If you're threatened in your home, then you have a safe room in which you can barricade yourself. The walls are sturdy, and it would take quite a while to break down that door, even if your assailant had tools at hand."
"That's a comfort."
"Third, we're going to install surveillance cameras, so that you'll be able to see what's going on in the garden and on the ground floor when you're in the bedroom. That will be done later this week, at the same time as we install the motion detectors outside the house."
"It sounds like the bedroom won't be such a romantic place in the future."
"It's a small monitor. We can put it inside a wardrobe or a cabinet so that it isn't in full view."
"Thank you."
"Later in the week I'll change the doors in your study and in a downstairs room too. If anything happens you should quickly seek shelter and lock the door while you wait for assistance."
"All right."
"If you trip the burglar alarm by mistake, then you'll have to call Milton's alarm centre immediately to cancel the emergency vehicle. To cancel it you'll have to give a password that will be registered with us. If you forget the password, the emergency vehicle will come out anyway and you'll be charged a fee."
"Understood."
"Fourth, there are now attack alarms in four places inside the house. Here in the kitchen, in the hall, in your study upstairs, and in your bedroom. The attack alarm consists of two buttons that you press simultaneously and hold down for three seconds. You can do it with one hand, but you can't do it by mistake. If the attack alarm is sounded, three things will happen. First, Milton will send cars out here. The closest car will come from Adam Security in Fisksatra. Two men will be here in ten to twelve minutes. Second, a car from Milton will come down from Nacka. For that the response time is at best twenty minutes, but more likely twenty-five. Third, the police will be alerted automatically. In other words, several cars will arrive at the scene within a short time, a matter of minutes."
"OK."
"An attack alarm can't be cancelled the same way you would cancel the burglar alarm. You can't call and say that it was a mistake. Even if you meet us in the driveway and say it was a mistake, the police will enter the house. We want to be sure that nobody's holding a gun to your husband's head or anything like that. So you use the attack alarm, obviously, only when there is real danger."
"I understand."
"It doesn't have to be a physical attack. It could be if someone is trying to break in or turns up in the garden or something like that. If you feel threatened in any way, you should set off the alarm, but use your good judgement."
"I will."
"I notice that you have golf clubs planted here and there around the house."
"Yes. I slept here alone last night."
"I myself would have checked into a hotel. I have no problem with you taking safety precautions on your own. But you ought to know that you could easily kill an intruder with a golf club."
"Hmm."
"And if you did that, you would most probably be charged with manslaughter. If you admitted that you put golf clubs around the place with the intent of arming yourself, it could also be classified as murder."
"If someone attacks me, chances are I do intend to bash in that person's skull."
"I understand. But the point of hiring Milton Security is so that you have an alternative to doing that. You should be able to call for help, and above all, you shouldn't end up in a situation where you have to bash in someone's skull."
"I'm only too happy to hear it."
"And, by the way, what would you do with the golf clubs if an intruder had a gun? The key to good security is all about staying one step ahead of anyone who means you harm."
"Tell me how I'm supposed to do that if I have a stalker after me?"
"You see to it that he never has a chance to get close to you. Now, we won't be finished with the installations here for a couple of days, and then we'll also have to have a talk with your husband. He'll have to be as safety-conscious as you are."
"He will be."
"Until then I'd rather you didn't stay here."
"I can't move anywhere else. My husband will be home in a couple of days. But both he and I travel fairly often, and one or the other of us has to be here alone from time to time."
"I understand. But I'm only talking about a couple of days, until we have all the installations ready. Isn't there a friend you could stay with?"
Berger thought for a moment about Blomkvist's apartment but remembered that just now it was not such a good idea.
"Thanks, but I'd rather stay here."
"I was afraid you'd say that. In that case, I'd like you to have company here for the rest of the week."
"Well . . ."
"Do you have a friend who could come and stay with you?"
"Sure. But not at 7:30 in the evening if there's a nutcase on the prowl outside."
Rosin thought for a moment. "Do you have anything against a Milton employee staying here? I could call and find out if my colleague Susanne Linder is free tonight. She certainly wouldn't mind earning a few hundred kronor on the side."
"What would it cost exactly?"
"You'd have to negotiate that with her. It would be outside all our formal agreements. But I really don't want you to stay here alone."
"I'm not afraid of the dark."
"I didn't think you were or you wouldn't have slept here last night. Susanne Linder is also a former policewoman. And it's only temporary. If we had to arrange for bodyguard protection that would be a different matter--and it would be rather expensive."
Rosin's seriousness was having an effect. It dawned on her that here he was calmly talking of the possibility of there being a threat to her life. Was he exaggerating? Should she dismiss his professional caution? In that case, why had she called Milton Security in the first place and asked them to install an alarm?
"OK. Call her. I'll get the guest room ready."
It was not until after 10:00 p.m. that Figuerola and Blomkvist wrapped sheets around themselves and went to her kitchen to make a cold pasta salad with tuna and bacon from the leftovers in her fridge. They drank water with their dinner.
Figuerola giggled.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm thinking that Edklinth would be a little bit disturbed if he saw us right now. I don't beli
eve he intended for me to go to bed with you when he told me to keep a close eye on you."
"You started it. I had the choice of being handcuffed or coming quietly," Blomkvist said.
"True, but you weren't very hard to convince."
"Maybe you aren't aware of this--though I doubt that--but you give off the most incredible sexual vibrations. Who on earth do you think can resist that?"
"You're very kind, but I'm not that sexy. And I don't have sex that often either."
"You amaze me."
"Really, I don't end up in bed with that many men. I was going out with a guy this spring. But it ended."
"Why was that?"
"He was sweet, but it turned into a wearisome sort of arm-wrestling contest. I was stronger than he was and he couldn't bear it. Are you the kind of man who'll want to arm-wrestle me?"
"You mean, am I someone who has a problem with the fact that you're fitter and physically stronger than I am? No, I'm not."
"Thanks for being honest. I've noticed that quite a few men get interested, but then they start challenging me and looking for ways to dominate me. Especially if they discover I'm a policewoman."
"I'm not going to compete with you. I'm better than you are at what I do. And you're better than I am at what you do."
"I can live with that attitude."
"Why did you pick me up?"
"I give in to impulses. And you were one of them!"
"But you're an officer in Sapo, of all places, and we're in the middle of an investigation in which I'm involved. . . ."
"You mean it was unprofessional of me. You're right. I shouldn't have done it. And I'd have a serious problem if it became known. Edklinth would go through the roof."
"I won't tell him."
"Very chivalrous."
They were silent for a moment.
"I don't know what this is going to turn into. You're a man who gets more than his fair share of action, as I gather. Is that accurate?"
"Yes, unfortunately. And I may not be looking for a steady girlfriend."
"Fair warning. I'm probably not looking for a steady boyfriend either. Can we keep it on a friendly level?"
"I think that would be best. Monica, I'm not going to tell anybody that we got together. But if we aren't careful I could end up in one hell of a conflict with your colleagues."
"I don't think so. Edklinth is as straight as an arrow. And we share the same objective, you and my people."
"We'll see how it goes."
"You had a thing with Lisbeth Salander too."
Blomkvist looked at her. "Listen . . . I'm not an open book for everyone to read. My relationship with Lisbeth is none of anyone's business."
"She's Zalachenko's daughter."
"Yes, and she has to live with that. But she isn't Zalachenko. There's the world of difference."
"I didn't mean it that way. I was wondering about your involvement in this story."
"Lisbeth is my friend. That should be enough of an explanation."
Susanne Linder from Milton Security was dressed in jeans, a black leather jacket, and running shoes. She arrived in Saltsjobaden at 9:00 in the evening and Rosin showed her around the house. She had brought a green duffel bag containing her laptop, a spring baton, a Mace canister, handcuffs, and a toothbrush, which she unpacked in Berger's guest room.
Berger made coffee.
"Thanks for the coffee. You're probably thinking of me as a guest you have to entertain. The fact is, I'm not a guest at all. I'm a necessary evil that's suddenly appeared in your life, albeit just for a couple of days. I was in the police for six years and I've worked at Milton for four. I'm a trained bodyguard."
"I see."
"There's a threat against you and I'm here to be a gatekeeper so that you can sleep in peace or work or read a book or do whatever you feel like doing. If you need to talk, I'm happy to listen. Otherwise, I brought my own book."
"Understood."
"What I mean is that you should go on with your life and not feel as though you need to entertain me. Then I'd just be in the way. The best thing would be for you to think of me as a temporary work colleague."
"Well, I'm certainly not used to this kind of situation. I've had threats before, when I was editor in chief at Millennium, but then it had to do with my work. Right now it's some seriously unpleasant individual--"
"Who has a hang-up about you in particular."
"Something along those lines."
"If we have to arrange full bodyguard protection, it'll cost a lot of money. And for it to be worth the cost, there has to be a very clear and specific threat. This is just an extra job for me. I'll ask you for 500 kronor a night to sleep here the rest of the week. It's cheap and far below what I would charge if I took the job for Milton. Is that OK with you?"
"It's completely OK."
"If anything happens, I want you to lock yourself in your bedroom and let me handle the situation. Your job is to press the attack alarm. That's all. I don't want you underfoot if there's any trouble."
Berger went to bed at 11:00. She heard the click of the lock as she closed her bedroom door. Deep in thought, she undressed and climbed into bed.
She had been told not to feel obliged to entertain her "guest," but she had spent two hours with Linder at the kitchen table. She discovered that they got along famously. They had discussed the psychology that causes certain men to stalk women. Linder told her that she did not hold with psychological mumbo-jumbo. She thought the most important thing was simply to stop the bastards, and she enjoyed her job at Milton Security a great deal, since her assignments were largely to act as a counter-force to raging lunatics.
"So why did you resign from the police force?" Berger said.
"A better question would be why did I become a police officer in the first place."
"Why did you become a police officer?"
"Because when I was seventeen a close friend of mine was mugged and raped in a car by three utter bastards. I became a police officer because I thought, rather idealistically, that the police existed to prevent crimes like that."
"Well?"
"I couldn't prevent shit. As a policewoman I invariably arrived on the scene after a crime had been committed. I couldn't cope with the arrogant lingo on the squad. And I soon found out that some crimes are never even investigated. You're a typical example. Did you try to call the police about what happened?"
"Yes."
"And did they bother to come out here?"
"Not really. I was told to file a report at the local station."
"So now you know. I work for Armansky, and I come into the picture before a crime is committed."
"Mostly concerning women who are threatened?"
"I work with all kinds of things. Security assessments, bodyguard protection, surveillance, and so on. But the work often concerns people who have been threatened. I get on considerably better at Milton than on the force, although there's a drawback."
"What's that?"
"We are only there for clients who can pay."
As she lay in bed Berger thought about what Linder had said. Not everyone can afford security. She herself had accepted Rosin's proposal for several new doors, engineers, backup alarm systems, and everything else without blinking. The cost of all that work would be almost 50,000 kronor. But she could afford it.
She pondered for a moment her suspicion that the person threatening her had something to do with SMP. Whoever it was had known that she had hurt her foot. She thought of Holm. She did not like him, which added to her mistrust of him, but the news that she had been injured had spread fast from the second she appeared in the newsroom on crutches.
And she had the Borgsjo problem.
She suddenly sat up in bed and frowned, looking around the bedroom. She wondered where she had put Cortez's file on Borgsjo and Vitavara Inc.
She got up, put on her bathrobe, and leaned on a crutch. She went to her study and turned on the light. No, she had not been in her study since . .
. since she had read through the file in the bath the night before. She had put it on the windowsill.
She looked in the bathroom. It was not on the windowsill.
She stood there for a while, worrying.
She had no memory of seeing the folder that morning. She had not moved it anywhere else.
She turned ice-cold and spent the next five minutes searching the bathroom and going through the stacks of papers and newspapers in the kitchen and bedroom. In the end she had to admit that the folder was gone.
Between the time when she had stepped on the shard of glass and Rosin's arrival that morning, somebody had gone into her bathroom and taken Millennium's material about Vitavara Inc.
Then it occurred to her that she had other secrets in the house. She limped back to the bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of the chest by her bed. Her heart sank like a stone. Everyone has secrets. She kept hers in the chest of drawers in her bedroom. Berger did not regularly write a diary, but there were periods when she had. There were also old love letters which she had kept from her teenage years.
There was an envelope with photographs that had been cool at the time, but . . . When Berger was twenty-five she had been involved in Club Xtreme, which arranged private dating parties for people who were into leather. There were photographs from various parties, and if she had been sober then, she would have recognized that she looked completely demented.
And--most disastrous of all--there was a video taken on vacation in the early nineties when she and Greger had been guests of the glass artist Torkel Bollinger at his villa on the Costa del Sol. During the vacation Berger had discovered that her husband had a definite bisexual tendency, and they had both ended up in bed with Torkel. It had been a pretty wonderful vacation. Video cameras were still a relatively new phenomenon. The movie they had playfully made was definitely not for general release.
The drawer was empty.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
On the bottom of the drawer someone had spray-painted the familiar five-letter word.
CHAPTER 19
Friday, June 3-Saturday, June 4
Salander finished her autobiography at 4:00 on Friday morning and sent a copy to Blomkvist via the Yahoo group [Idiotic_Table]. Then she lay still in bed and stared at the ceiling.
She knew that on Walpurgis Night she had had her twenty-seventh birthday, but she had not even reflected on the fact at the time. She was imprisoned. She had experienced the same thing at St. Stefan's. If things did not go right for her, there was a risk that she would spend many more birthdays in some form of confinement.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest Page 40