we going to do?" Cortez said. "Do we kill the article?"
Blomkvist looked Cortez straight in the eye. "No, Henry. We're not going to kill the article. That's not the way we do things at Millennium.
But this is going to take some legwork. We can't just dump it on Erika's desk as a newspaper billboard."
Malm waved a finger in the air. "We're really putting Erika on the spot. She'll have to choose between selling her share of Millennium and leaving our board... or in the worst case, she could get fired by S.M.P. Either way she would have a fearful conflict of interest. Honestly, Henry... I agree with Mikael that we should publish the story, but we may have to postpone it for a month."
"Because we're facing a conflict of loyalties too," Blomkvist said.
"Should I call her?"
"No, Christer," Blomkvist said. "I'll call her and arrange to meet. Say for tonight."
Figuerola gave a summary of the circus that had sprung up around Blomkvist's building on Bellmansgatan. Edklinth felt the floor sway slightly beneath his chair.
"An employee of S.I.S. goes into Blomkvist's building with an ex-safebreaker, now retrained as a locksmith."
"Correct."
"What do you think they did in the stairwell?"
"I don't know. But they were in there for forty-nine minutes. My guess is that Faulsson opened the door and Mårtensson spent the time in Blomkvist's apartment."
"And what did they do there?"
"It couldn't have been to plant bugs, because that takes only a minute or so. Mårtensson must have been looking through Blomkvist's papers or whatever else he keeps at his place."
"But Blomkvist has already been warned... they stole Bjorck's report from there."
"Quite right. He knows he's being watched, and he's watching the ones who are watching him. He's calculating."
"Calculating what?"
"I mean, he has a plan. He's gathering information and is going to expose Mårtensson. That's the only reasonable explanation."
"And then this Linder woman?"
"Susanne Linder, former police officer."
"Police officer?"
"She graduated from the police academy and worked for six years on the Sodermalm crime team. She resigned abruptly. There's nothing in her file that says why. She was out of a job for several months before she was hired by Milton Security."
"Armansky," Edklinth said thoughtfully. "How long was she in the building?"
"Nine minutes."
"Doing what?"
"I'm guessing - since she was filming Mårtensson and Faulsson on the street - that she's documenting their activities. That means that Milton Security is working with Blomkvist and has placed surveillance cameras in his apartment or in the stairwell. She probably went in to collect the film."
Edklinth sighed. The Zalachenko story was beginning to get tremendously complicated.
"Thank you. You go home. I have to think about this."
Figuerola went to the gym at St Eriksplan.
Blomkvist used his second mobile when he punched in Berger's number at S.M.P. He interrupted a discussion she was having with her editors about what angle to give an article on international terrorism.
"Oh, hello, it's you... wait a second."
Berger put her hand over the mouthpiece.
"I think we're done," she said, and gave them one last instruction. When she was alone she said: "Hello, Mikael. Sorry not to have been in touch. I'm just so swamped here. There are a thousand things I've got to learn. How's the Salander stuff going?"
"Good. But that's not why I called. I have to see you. Tonight."
"I wish I could, but I have to be here until 8.00. And I'm dead tired. I've been at it since dawn. What's it about?"
"I'll tell you when I see you. But it's not good."
"I'll come to your place at 8.30."
"No. Not at mine. It's a long story, but my apartment is unsuitable for the time being. Let's meet at Samir's Cauldron for a beer."
"I'm driving."
"Then we'll have a light beer."
Berger was slightly annoyed when she walked into Samir's Cauldron. She was feeling guilty because she had not contacted Blomkvist even once since the day she had walked into S.M.P.
Blomkvist waved from a corner table. She stopped in the doorway. For a second he seemed a stranger. Who's that over there? God, I'm so tired. Then he stood and kissed her on the cheek, and she realized to her dismay that she had not even thought about him for several weeks and that she missed him terribly. It was as though her time at S.M.P. had been a dream and she might suddenly wake up on the sofa at Millennium. It felt unreal.
"Hello, Mikael."
"Hello, editor-in-chief. Have you eaten?"
"It's 8.30. I don't have your disgusting eating habits."