sauna to control the world and keep the secret about Zalachenko. I'm guessing that the rest of Sapo has never even heard of the bastard. Lisbeth threatened to crack the secret wide open. So they locked her up in a children's psychiatric unit."
"That can't be true."
"Oh, but it is," Blomkvist said. "Lisbeth wasn't especially manageable then, nor is she now... but since she was twelve years old she's been a threat to national security."
He gave her a summary of the story.
"This is quite a bit to digest," Berger said. "And Dag and Mia... "
"Were murdered because Dag discovered the link between Bjurman and Zalachenko."
"So what happens now? We have to tell the police, don't we?"
"Parts of it, but not all. I've copied the significant information onto this disk as backup, just in case. Lisbeth is looking for Zalachenko. I'm going to try to find her. Nothing of this must be shared with anybody."
"Mikael... I don't like this. We can't withhold information in a murder investigation."
"And we're not going to. I intend to call Bublanski. But my guess is that Lisbeth is on her way to Gosseberga. She's still being sought for three murders, and if we call the police they'll unleash their armed response team and backup weapons with hunting ammunition, and there's a real risk that she would resist arrest. And then anything could happen." He stopped and smiled grimly. "If nothing else, we ought to keep the police out of it so that the armed response team doesn't come to a sticky end. I have to find her first."
Berger looked dubious.
"I don't intend to reveal Lisbeth's secrets. Bublanski will have to figure those out for himself. I want you to do me a favour. This folder contains Bjorck's report from 1991 and some correspondence between Bjorck and Teleborian. I want you to make a copy and offer it to Bublanski or Modig. I'm leaving for Goteborg in twenty minutes."
"Mikael... "
"I know. But I'm on Lisbeth's side through it all."
Berger pressed her lips together and said nothing. Then she nodded.
"Be careful," she said, but he had already left.
I should go with him, she thought. That was the only decent thing to do. But she still hadn't told him that she was going to leave Millennium and that it was all over, no matter what happened. She took the folder and headed for the photocopier.
The box was in a post office in a shopping centre. Salander didn't know Goteborg, nor where in the city she was, but she found the post office and positioned herself in a cafe where she could keep watch on the box through a gap in a window where there was a poster advertising the Svensk Kassatjanst, the improved Swedish postal system.
Irene Nesser wore more discreet makeup than Lisbeth Salander. She had some silly necklaces on and was reading Crime and Punishment, which she had found in a bookshop one street away. She took her time, occasionally turning a page. She'd begun her surveillance at lunch time and had no idea whether anyone came regularly to pick up the mail, whether it might be daily or every other week, whether it had already been collected earlier in the day, or whether anyone ever turned up at all. But it was her only lead, and she drank a caffe latte while she waited.
She was about to doze off when she suddenly saw the door to the box being opened. She glanced at the clock. A quarter to two. Lucky as shit.
She got up quickly and walked over to the window, where she spotted someone in a black leather jacket leaving the area where the boxes were. She caught up with him on the street outside. He was a thin young man in his twenties. He walked round the corner to a Renault and unlocked the door. Salander memorized the licence plate number and ran back to her Corolla, which was parked only a hundred yards away on the same street. She caught up with the car as it turned onto Linnegatan. She followed him down Avenyn and up towards Nordstan.
***
Blomkvist arrived at Central Station in time to catch the X2000 train at 5:10 p.m. He bought a ticket on board with his credit card, took a seat in the restaurant car, and ordered a late lunch.
He felt a gnawing uneasiness in the pit of his stomach and was afraid he had set off too late. He prayed that Salander would call him, but he knew