investigation. When the whole extent of the conspiracy finally dawned on him, he decided to withdraw all charges against Salander, and that decision meant that a raft of bureaucratic formalities could be set aside. Judge Iversen looked relieved.
Palmgren was exhausted after his day in court, the first in many years. He needed to go back to the Ersta rehabilitation home and go to bed. He was driven there by a uniformed guard from Milton Security. As he was leaving, he put a hand on Salander's shoulder. They looked at each other, saying nothing. After a moment she nodded.
Giannini called Blomkvist at 7.00 to tell him that Salander had been acquitted of all charges, but that she was going to have to stay at police headquarters for what might be another couple of hours for her interview.
The news came as the entire staff of Millennium were gathered at the office. The telephones had been ringing incessantly since the first copies of the magazine had been distributed by messenger that lunchtime to other newsrooms across the city. In the early evening T.V.4 had broadcast its first special program on Zalachenko and the Section. The media were having a field day.
Blomkvist walked into the main office, stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle.
"Great news. Salander has been acquitted on all counts."
Spontaneous applause broke out. Then everyone went back to talking on their telephones as if nothing had happened.
Blomkvist looked up at the television that had been turned on in the editorial office. The news on T.V.4 was just starting. The trailer was a brief clip of the film showing Sandberg planting cocaine in his apartment on Bellmansgatan.
"Here we can clearly see a Sapo officer planting what we later learn is cocaine at the apartment of Mikael Blomkvist, journalist at Millennium magazine."
Then the anchorman came on the screen.
"Twelve officers of the Security Police were today arrested on a range of criminal charges, including murder. Welcome to this extended news broadcast."
Blomkvist turned off the sound when She came on, and he saw himself sitting in a studio armchair. He already knew what he had said. He looked over at the desk where Svensson had sat. All his research documents on the sex-trafficking industry were gone, and the desk was once more home to stacks of newspapers and piles of unsorted paper that nobody had time to deal with.
For Blomkvist, it was at that desk that the Zalachenko affair had begun. He wished that Svensson had been able to see the conclusion of it. A pile of copies of his just-published book was on the table next to Blomkvist's own about the Section.
You would have loved this moment, Dag.
He heard the telephone in his office ringing, but he could not face picking it up. He pulled the door shut and went into Berger's office and sank into a comfortable chair by the window. Berger was on the telephone. He looked about. She had been back a month, but had not yet got around to putting up the paintings and photographs that she had taken away when she left in April. The bookshelves were still bare.
"How does it feel?" she said when she hung up.
"I think I'm happy," he said.
She laughed. "The Section is going to be a sensation. Every newsroom is going crazy for it. Do you feel like appearing on Aktuellt at 9.00 for an interview?"
"I think not."
"I suspected as much."
"We're going to be talking about this for several months. There's no rush."
She nodded.
"What are you doing later this evening?" Berger said.
"I don't know." He bit his lip. "Erika... I..."
"Figuerola," Berger said with a smile.
He nodded.
"So it's serious?"
"I don't know."
"She's terribly in love with you."
"I think I'm in love with her too," he said.
"I promise I'll keep my distance until, you know... well, maybe," she said.
At 8.00 Armansky and Linder appeared at Millennium's offices. They thought the occasion called for champagne, so they had brought over a crate from the state liquor store. Berger hugged Linder and introduced her to everyone. Armansky took a seat in Blomkvist's office.
They drank their champagne. Neither of them said anything for quite a while. It was Armansky who broke the silence.
"You know what, Blomkvist? The first time we met, on that job in Hedestad, I didn't much care for you."
"You don't say."
"You came over to sign a contract when you hired Lisbeth as a researcher."
"I remember."
"I think I was jealous of you. You'd known her only for a couple of hours, yet she was laughing