"Nor do I. The copies that Blomkvist and his sister - now Salander's lawyer - had in their possession have both disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Blomkvist's copy was taken during a break-in at his apartment, and Giannini's was stolen when she was mugged, punched to the ground in Goteborg. All this happened on the day Zalachenko was murdered."
Bublanski said nothing for a long while.
"Why haven't we heard anything about this?"
"Blomkvist put it like this: there's only one right time to publish a story, and an endless number of wrong times."
"But you two... he'll publish it?"
Armansky gave a curt nod.
"A nasty attack in Goteborg and a break-in here in Stockholm. On the same day," Bublanski said. "That means that our adversary is well organized."
"I should probably also mention that we know Giannini's telephone is tapped."
"A whole bunch of crimes."
"The question is, whose?"
"That's what I'm wondering. Most likely it's Sapo - they would have an interest in suppressing Bjorck's report. But Dragan... we're talking about the Swedish Security Police, a government agency. I can't believe this would be something sanctioned by Sapo. I don't even believe Sapo has the expertise to do anything like this."
"I'm having trouble digesting it myself. Not to mention that someone else saunters into Sahlgrenska and blows Zalachenko's head off. And at the same time, Gunnar Bjorck, author of the report, hangs himself."
"So you think there's a single hand behind all this? I know Inspector Erlander, who did the investigation in Goteborg. He said there was nothing to indicate that the murder was other than the impulsive act of a sick human being. And we did a thorough investigation of Bjorck's place. Everything points towards a suicide."
"Gullberg, seventy-eight years old, suffering from cancer, recently treated for depression. Our operations chief Johan Fraklund has been looking into his background."
"And?"
"He did his military service in Karlskrona in the '40s, studied law and eventually became a tax adviser. Had an office here in Stockholm for thirty years: low profile, private clients... whoever they might have been. Retired in 1991. Moved back to his home town of Laholm in 1994. Unremarkable, except - "
"Except what?"
"Except for one or two surprising details. Fraklund cannot find a single reference to Gullberg anywhere. He's never referred to in any newspaper or trade journal, and there's no-one who can tell us who his clients were. It's as if he never actually existed in the professional world."
"What are you saying?"
"Sapo is the obvious link. Zalachenko was a Soviet defector. Who else but Sapo would have taken charge of him? Then the question of a co-ordinated strategy to get Salander locked away in an institution. Now we have burglaries, muggings and telephone tapping. Personally I don't think Sapo is behind this. Blomkvist calls them 'the Zalachenko club', a small group of dormant Cold-Warmongers who hide out in some dark corridor at Sapo."
"So what should we do?" Bublanski said.
CHAPTER 12
SUNDAY, 15.V - MONDAY, 16.V
Superintendent Torsten Edklinth, Director of Constitutional Protection at the Security Police, slowly twirled his glass of red wine and listened attentively to the C.E.O. of Milton Security, who had called out of the blue and insisted on his coming to Sunday dinner at his place on Lidingo. Armansky's wife Ritva had made a delicious casserole. They had eaten well and talked politely about nothing in particular. Edklinth was wondering what was on Armansky's mind. After dinner Ritva repaired to the sofa to watch T.V. and left them at the table. Armansky had begun to tell him the story of Lisbeth Salander.
Edklinth and Armansky had known each other for twelve years, ever since a woman Member of Parliament had received death threats. She had reported the matter to the head of her party, and parliament's security detail had been informed. In due course the matter came to the attention of the Security Police. At that time, Personal Protection had the smallest budget of any unit in the Security Police, but the Member of Parliament was given protection during the course of her official appearances. She was left to her own devices at the end of the working day, the very time when she was obviously more vulnerable. She began to have doubts about the ability of the Security Police to protect her.
She arrived home late one evening to discover that someone had broken in, daubed sexually explicit epithets on her living-room walls, and masturbated in her bed. She immediately hired Milton