and I don't know what kind of work I want. But I've got a certain amount of money, so I'm getting by."
Armansky scrutinized her with searching eyes.
"I just came by to say hello... I'm not looking for a job. I don't know... maybe I'd do a job for you if you need me sometime, but it would have to be something that interests me."
"I don't suppose you want to tell me what happened up in Hedestad last year."
Salander did not answer.
"Well, something happened. Martin Vanger drove his car into a truck after you'd been back here to borrow surveillance gear, and somebody threatened you. And his sister came back from the dead. It was a sensation, to put it mildly."
"I've given my word I wouldn't talk about it."
"And you don't want to tell me what role you played in the Wennerstrom affair either."
"I helped Kalle Blomkvist with research." Her voice was suddenly much cooler. "That was all. I didn't want to get involved."
"Blomkvist has been looking for you high and low. He's called here once a month to ask if I've heard anything from you."
Salander remained silent, but Armansky saw that her lips were now pressed into a tight line.
"I can't say that I like him," Armansky said. "But he cares about you too. I met him once last autumn. He didn't want to talk about Hedestad either."
Salander did not want to discuss Blomkvist. "I just came to say hello and tell you that I'm back. I don't know if I'll be staying. This is my mobile number and my new email address if you need to get hold of me."
She handed Armansky a piece of paper and stood up. She was already at the door when he called after her.
"Wait a second. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to say hello to Holger Palmgren."
"OK. But I mean... what kind of work will you be doing?"
"I don't know."
"But you have to make a living."
"I told you, I have enough to get by."
Armansky leaned back in his chair. He was never quite sure how to interpret her words.
"I've been so fucking angry that you vanished without a word that I almost decided never to trust you again." He made a face. "You're so unreliable. But you're a damned good researcher. I might have a job coming up that would be a good fit for you."
She shook her head, but she came back to his desk.
"I don't want a job from you. I mean, I don't need one. I'm serious. I'm financially independent."
Armansky frowned.
"OK, you're financially independent, whatever that means. I'll take your word for it. But when you need a job... "
"Dragan, you're the second person I've visited since I got home. I don't need your work. But for several years now you've been one of the few people that I respect."
"Everybody has to make a living."
"Sorry, but I'm no longer interested in doing personal investigations. Let me know if you run into a really interesting problem."
"What sort of problem?"
"The kind you can't make heads or tails of. If you get stuck and don't know what to do. If I'm going to do a job for you, you'll have to come up with something special. Maybe on the operations side."
"Operations side? You? But you disappear without a trace whenever you feel like it."
"I've never skipped out on a job that I agreed to do."
Armansky looked at her helplessly. The term operations was jargon, but it meant field work. It could be anything from bodyguard duty to surveillance assignments for art exhibitions. His operations personnel were confident, stable veterans, many of them with a police background, and 90 percent of them were men. Salander was the polar opposite of all the criteria he had set out for personnel in the operations unit of Milton Security.
"Well... " he said dubiously, but she had vanished out the door. Armansky shook his head. She's weird. She's really weird.
The next second Salander was back in the doorway.
"Oh, by the way... You've had two guys spending a month protecting that actress Christine Rutherford from the nutcase who writes her threatening letters. You think it's an inside job because the letter writer knows so many details about her."
Armansky stared at Salander. An electric shock went through him. She's done it again. She's flung out a line about a case she absolutely cannot know a thing about.
"So... ?"
"It's a fake. She and her boyfriend have been writing the letters as a publicity stunt. She's