decided to restructure his entire operation in a new corporation that would be owned by Niedermann and himself. He approached Thomasson and proposed that the lawyer come in as a third, silent partner to handle the financial side of the business. Thomasson accepted at once.
"So, Herr Bodin, none of this looks like much fun."
"I have been the victim of grievous bodily harm and attempted murder," Zalachenko said.
"I can see as much. A certain Lisbeth Salander, if I understood correctly."
Zalachenko lowered his voice: "Our partner Niedermann, as you know, has really fouled his nest this time."
"Indeed."
"The police suspect that I am involved."
"Which of course you are not. You're a victim, and it's important that we see to it at once that this is the image presented to the press. Ms Salander has already received a good deal of negative publicity... Let me deal with the situation."
"Thank you."
"But I have to remind you right from the start that I'm not a criminal lawyer. You're going to need a specialist. I'll arrange to hire one that you can trust."
The fourth visitor of the day arrived at 11.00 on Saturday night, and managed to get past the nurses by showing an I.D. card and stating that he had urgent business. He was shown to Zalachenko's room. The patient was still awake, and grumbling.
"My name is Jonas Sandberg," he introduced himself, holding out a hand that Zalachenko ignored.
He was in his thirties. He had reddish-brown hair and was casually dressed in jeans, a checked shirt and a leather jacket. Zalachenko scrutinized him for fifteen seconds.
"I was wondering when one of you was going to show up."
"I work for S.I.S., Swedish Internal Security," Sandberg said, and showed Zalachenko his I.D.
"I doubt that," said Zalachenko.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You may be employed by S.I.S., but I doubt that's who you're working for."
Sandberg looked around the room, then he pulled up the visitor's chair.
"I came here late so as not to attract attention. We've discussed how we can help you, and now we have to reach some sort of agreement about what's going to happen. I'm just here to have your version of the story and find out what your intentions are... so that we can work out a common strategy."
"What sort of strategy had you in mind?"
"Herr Zalachenko... I'm afraid that a process has been set in motion in which the deleterious effects are hard to foresee," Sandberg said. "We've talked it through. It's going to be difficult to explain away the grave in Gosseberga, and the fact that the girl was shot three times. But let's not lose hope altogether. The conflict between you and your daughter can explain your fear of her and why you took such drastic measures... but I'm afraid we're talking about your doing some time in prison."
Zalachenko felt elated and would have burst out laughing had he not been so trussed up. He managed a slight curl of his lips. Anything more would be just too painful.
"So that's our strategy?"
"Herr Zalachenko, you are aware of the concept of damage control. We have to arrive at a common strategy. We'll do everything in our power to assist you with a lawyer and so on... but we need your cooperation, as well as certain guarantees."
"You'll get only one guarantee from me. First, you will see to it that all this disappears." He waved his hand. "Niedermann is the scapegoat and I guarantee that no-one will ever find him."
"There's forensic evidence that - "
"Fuck the forensic evidence. It's a matter of how the investigation is carried out and how the facts are presented. My guarantee is this... if you don't wave your magic wand and make all this disappear, I'm inviting the media to a press conference. I know names, dates, events. I don't think I need to remind you who I am."
"You don't understand - "
"I understand perfectly. You're an errand boy. So go to your superior and tell him what I've said. He'll understand. Tell him that I have copies of... everything. I can take you all down."
"We have to come to an agreement."
"This conversation is over. Get out of here. And tell them that next time they should send a grown man for me to discuss things with."
Zalachenko turned his head away from his visitor. Sandberg looked at Zalachenko for a moment. Then he shrugged and got up. He was almost at the door when he heard Zalachenko's voice again.