allegations unfounded and said that the documentation referred to was fabricated. He reminded everyone that the same reporter had been convicted of libel only one year before.
After that only Wennerström’s lawyers would answer questions from the media. Two days after Blomkvist’s book came out, a persistent rumour began circulating that Wennerström had left Sweden. The evening papers used the word “fled.” During the second week, when the securities fraud police tried to contact Wennerström, he was nowhere to be found. In mid-December the police confirmed that Wennerström was formally sought, and on the day before New Year’s Eve, an all-points bulletin was sent out via the international police organisations. The very same day one of Wennerström’s advisers was seized at Arlanda as he was boarding a plane for London.
Several weeks later a Swedish tourist reported that he had seen Wennerström get into a car in Bridgetown, the capital of Barbados. As proof of his claim, the tourist submitted a photograph, taken from quite a distance away, showing a white man wearing sunglasses, an open white shirt, and light-coloured slacks. He could not be identified with certainty, but the evening papers contacted stringers who tried without success to track down the fugitive billionaire.
After six months the hunt was called off. Then Wennerström was found dead in an apartment in Marbella, Spain, where he had been living under the name of Victor Fleming. He had been shot three times in the head at close range. The Spanish police were working on the theory, their statement said, that he had surprised a burglar.
Wennerström’s death came as no surprise to Salander. She suspected, with good reason, that his demise had to do with the fact that he no longer had access to the money in a certain bank in the Cayman Islands, which he may have needed to pay off certain debts in Colombia.
If anyone had asked for Salander’s help in tracking Wennerström, she could have told them almost on a daily basis where he was. Via the Internet she had followed his flight through a dozen countries and remarked a growing desperation in his emails. Not even Blomkvist would have thought that the fugitive ex-billionaire would be stupid enough to take along the computer that had been so thoroughly penetrated.
After six months Salander grew tired of tracking Wennerström. The question that remained to be answered was how far her own involvement should reach. Wennerström was without a doubt an Olympic-class creep, but he was not her personal enemy, and she had no interest in involving herself against him. She could tip off Blomkvist, but he would probably just publish a story. She could tip off the police, but there was quite a chance that Wennerström would be forewarned and again disappear. Besides, on principle, she did not talk to the police.
But there were other debts that had to be paid. She thought about the once-pregnant waitress whose head had been shoved underwater in her own bath.
Four days before Wennerström’s body was found, she made up her mind. She switched on her mobile and called a lawyer in Miami, who seemed to be one of the people Wennerström was making a big effort to hide from. She talked to a secretary and asked her to pass on a cryptic message. The name Wennerström and an address in Marbella. That was all.
She turned off the TV news halfway through a dramatic report about Wennerström’s demise. She put on some coffee and fixed herself a liver pâté and cucumber sandwich.
Berger and Malm were taking care of the annual Christmas arrangements while Blomkvist sat in Erika’s chair, drinking glögg and looking on. All the staff and many of the regular freelancers would receive a Christmas gift—this year a shoulder bag with the new Millennium publishing house logo. After wrapping the presents, they sat down to write and stamp about 200 cards to send to printing companies, photographers, and media colleagues.
Blomkvist tried for the longest time to withstand the temptation but finally he couldn’t resist. He picked up the very last card and wrote: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Thanks for your splendid efforts during the past year.
He signed his name and addressed the card to Janne Dahlman, c/o the editorial offices of Monopoly Financial Magazine.
When Blomkvist got home that evening there was a slip notifying him of a postal package. He went to pick it up the next morning, opening it when he got to the office. The package contained a mosquito-repellent stick and a bottle