“Jesus!” Dan said.
“I’m seeing my lawyer after Christmas,” Leo said. “Given the circumstances, it should all go smoothly. I don’t even see it as a gift. You’re getting what should have been yours a long time ago.” Dan was silent. He knew he should be throwing his arms around his brother and saying, “It’s too much, it’s crazy, you’re being far too generous.” But what was written on the document did not make him feel any better, or the situation any clearer, and initially he could not understand why. He felt over-sensitive and ungrateful. Then he decided there was something passive aggressive about the gift. The money was being given to him from a position of overwhelming advantage, and however grand the gesture, it was also diminishing.
So he said in a resolute voice: “I can’t accept it.”
He saw despair in Leo’s eyes.
“But why not?”
“It doesn’t work like that. You can’t fix it that easily.”
“I didn’t think I needed to fix anything. I just want to do the right thing. I’m not interested in the damn money anyway.”
“Not interested?”
Dan went crazy, even though some part of him must have realized how absurd it was. He had been handed tens of millions of kronor, which would fundamentally change his life. Yet he felt offended and angry. It could have been because of their argument the day before, or because he had been drinking and had hardly slept. It could have been down to any number of things, feelings of inferiority or just about anything.
“You just don’t get it,” he yelled. “You can’t say that to someone who’s always lived a marginal existence. It’s too late, Leo. Too late!”
“No, it’s not! We can begin again.”
“It’s just too late.”
“Stop!” Leo shouted back. “You’re being unfair.”
“I feel like I’m being bought. Do you understand that? Bought!”
He was going too far and he knew it, and it hurt when Leo did not come back at him with the same fury. Instead he simply answered sadly:
“I know.”
“What do you know?”
“Those people destroyed almost everything. I hate them for it. But still, we found each other. That’s what’s important, isn’t it?”
There was such despair in his voice that Dan muttered:
“I’m grateful of course, but …”
He got no further. He regretted the “but” and was about to say something else, like “Sorry, I’m an idiot.” He remembered it so well afterwards. They were on the verge of a reconciliation, and would no doubt have found each other again, given time. Instead they heard sounds in the hallway, footsteps, and then silence. It was a minute before midday. Rakel Greitz was not due for an hour and Leo had not even set the table.
“Hide,” he whispered.
Leo put away the document setting out his donation, and Dan went into one of the bedrooms and closed the door.
Leo had always been a source of worry, and not only because of the business with Carl Seger. He had been unpredictable of late. She thought it might have something to do with Madeleine Bard. Losing her had made him suspicious. She knew everything about Leo. So Greitz wondered what was up when he cancelled their Christmas lunch and invited her instead to his apartment.
She knew, for example, that like many bachelors he did not like to cook or invite anyone over, especially not anyone with whom he did not feel entirely comfortable. Greitz had therefore decided to show up early, with the excuse that she wanted to help him in the kitchen. But in fact what she wanted to know was whether something had happened, or if he had discovered anything about his adoption.
As she stepped out of the lift into the hallway with its painted blue ceiling, she heard agitated voices coming from inside the apartment, and they were strangely alike. Suddenly the voices stopped and she knew that whoever they belonged to was aware of her presence. Leo’s hearing was quite exceptional. She was shaken to realize that something really was amiss. She texted Benjamin:
She added:
Then she drew herself up and knocked, ready with her warmest Christmas smile. But she didn’t need it. Leo was already beaming in the doorway and, as always, he kissed her on both cheeks and helped her off with her coat, as he had been brought up to do. He was far too tactful to point out that she was an hour early.
“You’re looking as elegant as ever, Rakel. What a Christmas this is going to be!” he said.
He’s playing his part well, she thought. She only detected traces of tension in his face after studying him very carefully. He might have been able to fool her, had things been different. But she had keen eyes. He had been careless, which no doubt he knew himself: A moment before there had been voices, and now he was on his own. And there was a guitar lying on the sofa.
“How’s Viveka?” she said.
“I don’t think she’s got much longer.”
“Poor thing.”
“It’s just awful.”
Bullshit, she thought. I bet you’re glad the bitch is finally on her way out.
“When both parents are gone, there’s only you left,” she said, touching his arm. She wanted to reassure him, to show her sympathy, and at the same time hide her suspicion. But that was a miscalculation. Leo shuddered, evidently affected by the physical contact, and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. For a moment she felt frightened and looked again at the guitar. She decided to let things rest for a while. She wanted to give Benjamin time to pack her doctor’s bag and make his way over, so she kept the normal conversation going for another ten minutes, but then she could stand it no longer.
“Who’s here?”
“Who do you think?” Leo said.
She had no idea, she told him. But that was a lie. Things were beginning to fall into place, and she could see how tense Leo now was, how he was looking at her as he never had before. She realized she would have to strike hard, and mercilessly, before Daniel Brolin appeared from wherever he was hiding.
CHAPTER 19
22.vi
Rakel Greitz was not at home on Karlbergsvägen and Salander decided to bide her time. She took the Tunnelbana back to Slussen and then walked along Götgatan. She had heard from Giannini that Benito had been sprung from Örebro hospital, and so she was on her guard. She was always on her guard. Life in prison had made her, if anything, more careful, but even so she might be underestimating the danger she was in. There were more alliances after her than she realized. Sinister forces from the past were mustering their followers, exchanging information and perhaps agreeing to work together.
It was a scalding June day and life in the city seemed to have slowed down. People were mooching about, window-shopping or sitting out on the terraces of cafés and restaurants. Salander went on up towards Fiskargatan. There was a buzzing in her pocket. An encrypted text from Blomkvist.
She wrote:
He answered:
She considered making her way to Alfred Ögren on Norrmalmstorg to see how Blomkvist was getting on there but decided against it. She wanted first to get hold of Rakel Greitz, or to see if she could trace her to another address. Her watchfulness remained high as she walked up Fiskargatan towards her apartment building, and she wondered if it really was such a good idea to go home.There was no official record of her living there – the apartment was registered to Irene Nesser, an identity she occasionally assumed, and she had put up a number of smokescreens – but the net was closing in. People were beginning to recognize her. She was something of a celebrity these days, and she hated that. Also, two people – Kalle Bloody Blomkvist and the N.S.A. agent, Ed the Ned – had tracked her down here before, and word does tend to get out. She should sell the damn place, it was too big for her anyway. She should move
far away, maybe even take off right now.
But it was too late. She realized it the moment she saw a grey van facing in her direction further up the street. There was nothing outwardly remarkable about it. It was an old model, parked perfectly normally by the kerb. Still, it made her suspicious. And now it was rolling towards her. She turned back down the hill, but she had gone only a few paces when a bearded man suddenly appeared from a doorway and put a wet rag over her face. She felt sick, but above all she felt stupid, and careless. And now she was just about to pass out. The street and the buildings danced around her, she had no strength to resist. She managed only to pull out her mobile and whisper the codeword – “Harpy” – before she felt herself falling and was lifted in through the back doors of the van. Her vision was blurred, but she detected a sweet perfume which was only too familiar.
December, a year and a half earlier
Dan heard the voices in the drawing room and realized that nothing was going as planned. Greitz seemed to have seen straight through them and the element of surprise that they had hoped for was no longer an option. He decided to go in and confront her.
But Dan had underestimated the effect that Greitz would have on him. Her physical presence cast him right back to his childhood self. He remembered her standing on the upper floor of the farm all those years ago, observing him coldly as he played his guitar. She must have been comparing him to Leo even then, studying their similarities, and at this realization he lost his composure.
“You know who I am, I guess,” he said, wild with rage. He took a step forward, but he could not help still feeling small.
Greitz stood her ground, astonishingly composed.
“Of course I do,” she said. “How are you?”
“We want to know exactly what happened to us,” Dan shouted at her, and only then did she back away. But she remained calm as she adjusted her collar and looked at her watch. Even though she was nervous – the twitch around her mouth made that evident – she had a stature and an icy cool about her, like a schoolmistress, and this made Dan feel that it was he rather than she who was about to be castigated.
“You need to calm down,” she said.
“No way,” Dan said. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“And I will explain. I will. But first I need to know if you’ve gone to the press.” When there was no response, Greitz went on: “I do understand that you’re upset. But it would be dangerous for the story to get out now, before you know the full picture. It’s not what you imagine.”
“We haven’t gone public – yet,” Dan said, and wondered straight away if that was a mistake, the more so when he saw a hint of satisfaction in Greitz’s face. He looked at Leo.
Leo was standing there, silent, feet planted, giving him no clue as to how he should act. How could he stop Greitz taking the initiative?
“I’m an old woman now,” she said, “and I’m having terrible stomach pains, forgive me for being so frank. Is it O.K. if I sit down? Then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Go ahead,” Leo said eventually. “Make yourself comfortable. We want answers to all our questions.”
Greitz began hesitantly, hoping that Benjamin would show up before she had to give away anything that really mattered, or was forced to tell any ill-considered lies. Leo and Daniel sat opposite her, each in his own armchair, and glared at her, wanting answers. Despite the tension and the air of crisis she was amazed at how astoundingly alike the brothers were, more than was common in identical twins of their age. The fact that they had the same haircut and wore the same kind of clothes made the similarity yet more striking.
“Here’s how it was,” she said. “We found ourselves in an extremely difficult situation. We had reports from several children’s homes and hospitals about identical twins whose parents were not able to take care of them.”
“Who’s ‘we’?” Daniel broke in, and even though his voice was angry and full of hate, she welcomed any interruption. She said – on a sudden inspiration – that she had been given something, she had it in her coat, which would perhaps help them to understand the situation. Should she fetch it? She wondered if she was being even remotely credible. But they let her go, and that filled her with contempt. Daniel and Leo were weak and pathetic, weren’t they? When she got to the hall, she coughed to cover the sound of her putting the front door on the latch. She then made a pretence of looking for something in her coat pocket, and exclaimed: “Hopeless!”
She came back to the sofa, shaking her head, and went on talking in vague terms. This exasperated Leo, and when she casually mentioned Carl Seger his blood rose, he looked almost unhinged. He called her a monster and demanded that she explain what had happened to Carl. That really frightened her, because she remembered the fits of rage which both boys had manifested when they were young. In the end, Leo’s outburst turned out to be a good thing because at that moment Benjamin appeared. The shouting must have stiffened his resolve, because he strode in without knocking and grabbed hold of Leo from behind. Meanwhile, Greitz bent to dig around in the doctor’s bag which Benjamin had set at her feet. Leo cried out for help and Daniel made a rush for Benjamin. She knew she needed to be resolute. Quickly, quickly she rummaged through the medication in the bag – Stesolid, opiates, morphine, the lot – and then … an icy chill ran through her: pancuronium bromide, a synthetic curare to mimic the extract used on poison arrows. That would be too brutal. But wait … there was also physostigmine, an antidote which could either wholly or partly neutralize its effect. She had an idea, inspired by an accusation Daniel had spat out during their conversation, of cruelty and injustice, which suggested that there was a deep bitterness there. It was a bold and wild idea. She pulled on her latex gloves.
Benjamin was immovable as ever and had a firm hold on Leo, who was screaming as Daniel tried to tear him free. She prepared a syringe. It took an extra moment to get the dose right. She realized she would have to inject straight into the muscle, there was no time to find a vein, but perhaps there was an advantage in that. At least, that’s what she told herself as she jabbed the needle through Leo’s pullover. He looked at her in shock while Daniel bawled: “What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?”
She grimaced. The neighbours below must be wondering about the racket, and if they came up Leo might already be convulsing, he would even begin to suffocate as soon as his respiratory muscles ceased to function. The situation was critical and she was in danger. She had crossed yet another line, and more than ever she needed to keep her wits about her. In her most authoritative doctor’s voice she said:
“Calm down now, both of you. I’ve only given him a sedative, nothing more. Breathe, Leo, breathe. Good! You’ll soon feel better. We’ve got to talk like sensible people. You’ve got to stop yelling like that. This is … John, he works with me, he’s medically trained. I’m quite sure we can work this out and it’s high time I told you the rest of this sad story. I’m so glad you’ve found each other at last.”
“You’re lying,” Daniel hissed.
The situation was out of hand. There was far too much noise and by now she was terrified that the neighbours would be on their way. She kept talking, trying to defuse the situation, all the while counting down the seconds to the inevitable consequence of her injection – the poison penetrating Leo’s blood and acting on the nicotinic acetylcholine receptors to inhibit his muscles. The building was still quiet. No-one had called the police. Now Leo was beginning to stiffen, as she knew he would, and spasmodic movements sent him crashing to the red Persian rug. Even though this was an extreme step even for her, Greitz savoured the dizzying feeling of power. She could save his life at any moment. Or she could let him die. The circumstances would dictate. Her mind needed to be clear, sharp and convincing so that she could work on Daniel’s evident bitterness and sense of inferiority.
She would get him to play the role of his life.
As Leo fell to the ground, Dan realized that something was terri
bly wrong. His brother had collapsed as if his body had simply stopped functioning. Leo was grabbing at his throat and seemed paralysed. Dan forgot everything else and crouched next to his brother, screaming and shaking him. When Greitz began to speak he was barely listening. He was wholly concentrated on trying to restore life to Leo, and anyway, she was saying something that was far too outlandish for him to take in.
“Daniel,” she said. “We can make this work. We’ll see to it that you’re better off than you could ever have imagined. From now on you’ll have an incredible life with unlimited resources.”
It was nonsense, of course, empty words, and all the while Leo was getting worse. He was whimpering and convulsing. His face was ash grey and his lips blue, and he was fighting for breath. He seemed to be suffocating, his eyes were watery and panic-stricken. The blueish tinge spread from his lips out to his cheeks, and Dan prepared to give him artificial respiration. But Greitz stopped him and was saying something, and he could not help but listen – by now he was willing to grasp at straws. Greitz’s tone seemed quite different now, not as impassioned as before, more like a soothing doctor. She took Leo’s pulse and smiled reassuringly at Dan.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said. “He’s just suffering some cramps. He’ll be fine soon. The dose I gave him was powerful, but not dangerous. See for yourself!”
She handed Dan the syringe and he looked at it in his hand, at a loss as to what it could prove or tell him.
“Why are you giving me this?”
He looked at her as she stood next to the big man who was still wearing his jacket and winter boots.
A terrifying thought struck him.
“You want my fingerprints on this, don’t you?”
He dropped the syringe.
“Calm down, Daniel. Listen to me.”
“Why the hell should I listen to you?”
He pulled out his mobile, he had to call an ambulance. But a threatening, lurching movement from the man stopped him. His panic intensified. Were they trying to kill Leo? Was that even imaginable? He was terror-stricken, and next to him Leo gasped and looked as if he were about to die. Dan yelled straight into Leo’s hyper-sensitive ear. “Fight! You can do it!” Leo’s forehead furrowed. He gritted his teeth. A patch of colour returned to his face. But it soon drained away, and again he seemed to be fighting for air. Dan turned to Greitz.
The Girl Who Takes an Eye for an Eye: Continuing Stieg Larsson's Millennium Series Page 29