"I understand that. But the balance sheet still has to be sorted out. It's part of your responsibility as a citizen."
"Sell the crap, then. Put half in the bank and send the rest to whoever you like."
Giannini stared at her. She had understood that Salander had money stashed away, but she had not realized that her client was so well off that she could ignore an inheritance that might amount to a million kronor or more. What is more, she had no idea where Salander had got her money, or how much was involved. On the other hand she was keen to finalize the bureaucratic procedure.
"Lisbeth, please... could you read through the estate inventory and give me the green light so that we can get this matter resolved?"
Salander grumbled for a moment, but finally she acquiesced and stuffed the folder into her shoulder bag. She promised to read through it and send instructions as to what she wanted Giannini to do. Then she went back to her beer. Giannini kept her company for an hour, drinking mostly mineral water.
It was not until several days later, when Giannini telephoned to remind her about the estate inventory, that Salander took out the crumpled papers. She sat at the kitchen table, smoothed out the documents, and read through them.
The inventory covered several pages. There was a detailed list of all kinds of junk - the china in the kitchen cupboards in Gosseberga, clothing, cameras and other personal effects. Zalachenko had not left behind much of real value, and not one of the objects had the slightest sentimental value for Salander. She decided that her attitude had not changed since she met with Giannini at the theatre bar. Sell the crap and give the money away. Or something. She was positive that she did not want a single ore of her father's wealth, but she also was pretty sure that Zalachenko's real assets were hidden where no tax inspector would look for them.
Then she opened the title deeds for the property in Norrtalje.
It was an industrial site of three buildings totalling twenty thousand square metres in the vicinity of Skederid, between Norrtalje and Rimbo.
The estate assessor had apparently paid a cursory visit, and noted that it was an old brickworks that had been more or less empty and abandoned since it was shut down in the '60s, apart from a period in the '70s when it had been used to store timber. He noted that the buildings were in "extremely poor condition" and could not in all likelihood be renovated for any other activity. The term "poor condition" was also used to describe the "north building," which had in fact been destroyed by fire and collapsed. Some repairs, he wrote, had been made to the "main building".
What gave Salander a jolt was the site's history. Zalachenko had acquired the property for a song on 12 March, 1984, but the signatory on the purchase documents was Agneta Sofia Salander.
So Salander's mother had in fact been the owner of the property. Yet in 1987 her ownership had ceased. Zalachenko had bought her out for 2,000 kronor. After that the property had stood unused for fifteen years. The inventory showed that on 17 September, 2003, K.A.B. Import A.B. had hired the builders NorrBygg Inc. to do renovations which included repairs to the floor and roof, as well as improvements to the water and electrical systems. Repair work had gone on for two months, until the end of November, and then discontinued. NorrBygg had sent an invoice which had been paid.
Of all the assets in her father's estate, this was the only surprising entry. Salander was puzzled. Ownership of the industrial site made sense if her father had wanted to give the impression that K.A.B. Import was carrying on legitimate activities or owned certain assets. It also made sense that he had used her mother as a front in the purchase and had then for a pittance bought back the property.
But why in heaven's name would he spend almost 440,000 kronor to renovate a ramshackle building, which according to the assessor was still not being used for anything in 2005?
She could not understand it, but was not going to waste time wondering. She closed the folder and called Giannini.
"I've read the inventory. What I said still holds. Sell the shit and do whatever you like with the money. I want nothing from him."