The Girl Who Lived Twice (Millennium #6) - David Lagercrantz Page 0,62

“But do we have to be so obedient?”

She gave a sorrowful smile.

“Maybe not.”

“Well then, did you know him?”

“We did for a while at Base Camp. We liked him a lot, and I think he liked us. ‘Sahib, Sahib,’ he said all the time about Johannes, ‘very good person.’ He had a lovely wife.”

“Luna.”

“Luna,” she repeated. “She spoiled us all, she was constantly on the go. We helped them to build a house in Pangboche afterwards.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m not so sure. We all felt guilty about what happened to him.”

“Do you have any idea how he could have disappeared from Kathmandu, presumed dead, and then turn up in Stockholm three years later and die again?”

“It makes me sick to the stomach.” She looked at him, misery in her eyes.

“Tell me,” he said.

“You should have seen those little boys in Khumbu. They worshipped him. He saved lives, and he paid a terrible price.”

“I suppose that was the end of his climbing career.”

“His name was dragged through the mud.”

“But not by everybody, surely?” Blomkvist said.

“By a lot of people.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“The ones who were close to Klara Engelman.”

“Her husband, for example?”

“Of course, him as well.”

He could hear the change of tone in her voice.

“That’s a strange way of putting it.”

“Well, maybe. But you understand…the story is more complicated than most people realize, and many lawyers have been involved. A year or two ago, an American publisher had to withdraw a book about it.”

“That was down to Engelman’s lawyers, I bet.”

“Right. Engelman is a real estate tycoon, ostensibly an entrepreneur, but at heart he’s a gangster, a mafioso, at least that’s my opinion. And I know he wasn’t that happy about his wife towards the end.”

“How come?”

“Because she fell in love with our guide, Viktor Grankin, and wanted to leave Stan. She said she was going to get a divorce and tell the press what a narcissistic pig he had been. That’s the stuff Engelman managed to suppress, even though you can probably still find bits and pieces on the internet gossip sites.”

“Got it,” he said.

“It was all very acrimonious.”

“Did Nima Rita know?”

“They kept it very quiet, but I’m sure he did. He was looking after her.”

“And did he also keep quiet about it?”

“I think so. At least while his mind was still reasonably sound. But after his wife died, he apparently became more and more confused. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he went around and blabbed about that, and other things too.”

Blomkvist looked into Rebecka Forsell’s eyes, and at her tall body huddled up in the chair. Somewhat reluctantly he said:

“In his last days he was talking about your husband too.”

* * *

—

Rebecka could feel her anger rising, but she was careful not to show it, and she knew she was being unfair. Blomkvist had a job to do. He had saved her husband’s life. But his words brought to mind her worst suspicions, that Johannes was keeping from her something to do with Everest and Nima Rita. In her heart she had never believed it was the hate campaign which had broken him.

Johannes was a fighter, a warrior, an overoptimistic fool who stormed on ahead, however lousy the odds. The only times she had seen him beaten were now, out on Sandön, and after his Everest ascent. She had already worked out for herself that there must be a connection. And this must be what had made her so angry, not Blomkvist. He was just the messenger.

“I don’t understand that,” she said.

“Not at all?”

She was silent. Then she said, “You ought to have a word with Svante,” and immediately regretted it.

“Svante Lindberg?”

“That’s right.”

She and Johannes had had a huge row at home on the day he appointed Lindberg his undersecretary. On the face of it Lindberg was a carbon copy of Johannes, with the same energy and military heartiness. But in fact he was something quite different. While Forsell thought well of everything and everybody—until the opposite proved true—Lindberg was always calculating and manipulative.

“What can Svante tell me?” Blomkvist said.

Whatever suits his interests, she thought.

“What happened on Everest,” she said, wondering if she was betraying Johannes with those words. But Johannes had failed her by not telling her everything that had taken place on the mountain. She got up, gave Blomkvist a hug and thanked him once more, and went back to the intensive care unit.

CHAPTER 18

August 26–27, Night

Chief Inspector Ulrike Jensen was conducting a first interview with the complainant, Thomas Müller, at Rigshospitalet in