into the room with their weapons drawn. She reached out and touched Andersson's shoulder. He stood up.
"You said that Miro Nikolich was on our wanted list?"
"Correct. G.B.H. About a year ago. A street fight down in Hallunda."
"O.K. Here's what we'll do," Figuerola said. "I'll take off as fast as I can with Blomkvist and Berger. You stay here. The story is that you and Modig came here to have dinner and you recognized Nikolich from your time in the gangs unit. When you tried to arrest him he pulled a weapon and started shooting. So you sorted him out."
Andersson looked completely astonished. "That's not going to hold up. There are witnesses."
"The witnesses will say that somebody was fighting and shots were fired. It only has to hold up until tomorrow's evening papers. The story is that the Nikolich brothers were apprehended by sheer chance because you recognized them."
Andersson surveyed the shambles all around him.
Figuerola pushed her way through the knot of police officers out on the street and put Blomkvist and Berger in the back seat of her car. She turned to the armed response team leader and spoke in a low voice with him for half a minute. She gestured towards the car in which Blomkvist and Berger were now sitting. The leader looked puzzled but at last he nodded. She drove to Zinkensdamm, parked, and turned around to her passengers.
"How badly are you hurt?"
"I took a few punches. I've still got all my teeth, but my middle finger's hurt."
"I'll take you to A.&E. at St Goran's."
"What happened?" Berger said. "And who are you?"
"I'm sorry," Blomkvist said. "Erika, this is Inspector Monica Figuerola. She works for Sapo. Monica, this is Erika Berger."
"I worked that out all by myself," Figuerola said in a neutral tone. She did not spare Berger a glance.
"Monica and I met during the investigation. She's my contact at S.I.S."
"I understand," Berger said, and she began to shake as suddenly the shock set in.
Figuerola stared hard at Berger.
"What went wrong?" Blomkvist said.
"We misinterpreted the reason for the cocaine," Figuerola said. "We thought they were setting a trap for you, to create a scandal. Now we know they wanted to kill you. They were going to let the police find the cocaine when they went through your apartment."
"What cocaine?" Berger said.
Blomkvist closed his eyes for a moment.
"Take me to St Goran's," he said.
"Arrested?" Clinton barked. He felt a butterfly-light pressure around his heart.
"We think it's alright," Nystrom said. "It seems to have been sheer bad luck."
"Bad luck?"
"Miro Nikolich was wanted on some old assault story. A policeman from the gangs unit happened to recognize him when he went into Samir's Cauldron and wanted to arrest him. Nikolich panicked and tried to shoot his way out."
"And Blomkvist?"
"He wasn't involved. We don't even know if he was in the restaurant at the time."
"This cannot be fucking true," Clinton said. "What do the Nikolich brothers know?"
"About us? Nothing. They think Bjorck and Blomkvist were both hits that had to do with trafficking."
"But they know that Blomkvist was the target?"
"Sure, but they're hardly going to start blabbing about being hired to do a hit. They'll keep their mouths shut all the way to district court. They'll do time for possession of illegal weapons and, as like as not, for resisting arrest."
"Those damned fuck-ups," Clinton said.
"Well, they seriously screwed up. We've had to let Blomkvist give us the slip for the moment, but no harm was actually done."
It was 11.00 by the time Linder and two hefty bodyguards from Milton Security's personal protection unit collected Blomkvist and Berger from Kungsholmen.
"You really do get around," Linder said.
"Sorry," Berger said gloomily.
Berger had been in a state of shock as they drove to St Goran's. It had dawned on her all of a sudden that both she and Blomkvist had very nearly been killed.
Blomkvist had spent an hour in A.&E. having his head X-rayed and his face bandaged. His left middle finger was put in a splint. The end joint of his finger was badly bruised and he would lose the fingernail. Ironically the main injury was caused when Andersson came to his rescue and pulled Nikolich off him. Blomkvist's middle finger had been caught in the trigger guard of the M/45 and had snapped straight across. It hurt a lot but was hardly life-threatening.
For Blomkvist the shock did not set in until two hours later, when he had arrived at Constitutional Protection at S.I.S. and reported to Inspector Bublanski and Prosecutor Gustavsson. He began to