“I was just thinking…” Andersson stopped.

“Yes?”

“It’s just that when we talked to Teleborian, you were the only one in the group who offered any opposition when he answered our questions.”

“Yes?”

“Well… er… good instincts,” he said.

Andersson was not known for handing out praise, and it was definitely the first time he had ever said anything positive or encouraging to Modig. He left her standing by her car in astonishment.

Blomkvist had spent Saturday night with Berger. They lay in bed and talked through the details of the Zalachenko story. Blomkvist trusted Berger implicitly and was never for a second inhibited by the fact that she was going to be working for a rival paper. Nor had Berger any thought of taking the story with her. It was Millennium’s scoop, even though she may have felt a certain frustration that she was not going to be the editor of that particular issue. It would have been a fine ending to her years at Millennium.

They also discussed the future structure of the magazine. Berger was determined to retain her shareholding in Millennium and to remain on the board, even if she had no say over the magazine’s contents.

“Give me a few years at the daily and then, who knows? Maybe I’ll come back to Millennium before I retire,” she said.

And as for their own complicated relationship, why should it be any different? Except that of course they would not be meeting so often. It would be as it was in the ’80s, before Millennium was founded and when they worked in separate offices.

“I imagine we’ll have to book appointments with each other,” Berger said with a faint smile.

On Sunday morning they said a hasty goodbye before Berger drove home to her husband, Greger Beckman.

After she was gone Blomkvist called the hospital in Sahlgrenska and tried to get some information about Salander’s condition. Nobody would tell him anything, so finally he called Inspector Erlander, who took pity on him and vouchsafed that, given the circumstances, Salander’s condition was fair and the doctors were cautiously optimistic. He asked if he would be able to visit her. Erlander told him that Salander was officially under arrest and that the prosecutor would not allow any visitors, but in any case she was in no condition to be questioned. Erlander said he would call if her condition took a turn for the worse.

When Blomkvist checked his mobile, he saw that he had forty-two messages and texts, almost all of them from journalists. There had been wild speculation in the media after it was revealed that Blomkvist was the one who had found Salander, and had probably saved her life. He was obviously closely connected with the development of events.

He deleted all the messages from reporters and called his sister, Annika, to invite himself for Sunday lunch. Then he called Dragan Armansky, C.E.O. of Milton Security, who was at his home in Lidingö.

“You certainly have a way with headlines,” Armansky said.

“I tried to reach you earlier this week. I got a message that you were looking for me, but I just didn’t have time-”

“We’ve been doing our own investigation at Milton. And I understood from Holger Palmgren that you had some information. But it seems you were far ahead of us.”

Blomkvist hesitated before he said: “Can I trust you?”

“How do you mean exactly?”

“Are you on Salander’s side or not? Can I believe that you want the best for her?”

“I’m her friend. Although, as you know, that’s not necessarily the same thing as saying that she’s my friend.”

“I understand that. But what I’m asking is whether or not you’re willing to put yourself in her corner and get into a pitched battle with her enemies.”

“I’m on her side,” he said.

“Can I share information with you and discuss things with you without the risk of your leaking it to the police or to anyone else?”

“I can’t get involved in criminal activity,” Armansky said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You can absolutely rely on me as long as you don’t reveal that you’re engaged in any sort of criminal activity.”

“Good enough. We need to meet.”

“I’m coming into the city this evening. Dinner?”

“I don’t have time today, but I’d be grateful if we could meet tomorrow night. You and I and perhaps a few other people might need to sit down for a chat.”

“You’re welcome at Milton. Shall we say 6.00?”

“One more thing… I’m seeing my sister, the lawyer Annika Giannini, later this morning. She’s considering taking on Salander as a client, but she can’t work for nothing. I can pay part of her fee out of my own pocket. Would Milton Security be willing to contribute?”

“That girl is going to need a damned good criminal lawyer. Your sister might not be the best choice, if you’ll forgive me for saying so. I’ve already talked to Milton ’s chief lawyer and he’s looking into it. I was thinking of Peter Althin or someone like that.”

“That would be a mistake. Salander needs a totally different kind of legal support. You’ll see what I mean when we talk. But would you be willing, in principle, to help?”

“I’d already decided that Milton ought to hire a lawyer for her-”

“Is that a yes or a no? I know what happened to her. I know roughly what’s behind it all. And I have a strategy.”

Armansky laughed.

“O.K. I’ll listen to what you have to say. If I like it, I’m in.”

Blomkvist kissed his sister on the cheek and immediately asked: “Are you going to be representing Lisbeth Salander?”

“I’m going to have to say no. You know I’m not a criminal lawyer. Even if she’s acquitted of murder, there’s going to be a rack of other charges. She’s going to need someone with a completely different sort of clout and experience than I have.”

“You’re wrong. You’re a lawyer and you’re a recognized authority in women’s rights. In my considered view you’re precisely the lawyer she needs.”

“Mikael… I don’t think you really appreciate what this involves. It’s a complex criminal case, not a straightforward case of sexual harassment or of violence against a woman. If I take on her defence, it could turn out to be a disaster.”

Blomkvist smiled. “You’re missing the point. If she had been charged with the murders of Dag and Mia, for example, I would have gone for the Silbersky type or another of the heavy-duty criminal lawyers. But this trial is going to be about entirely different things.”

“I think you’d better explain.”

They talked for almost two hours over sandwiches and coffee. By the time Mikael had finished his account, Annika had been persuaded. Mikael picked up his mobile and made another call to Inspector Erlander in Göteborg.

“Hello, it’s Blomkvist again.”

“I don’t have any news on Salander,” Erlander said, plainly irritated.

“Which I assume is good news. But I actually have some news.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, she now has a lawyer named Annika Giannini. She’s with me right now, so I’ll put her on.”

Blomkvist handed the mobile across the table.

“My name is Annika Giannini and I’ve been taken on to represent Lisbeth Salander. I need to get in touch with my client so that she can approve me as her defence lawyer. And I need the telephone number of the prosecutor.”

“As far as I know,” Erlander said, “a public defence has already been appointed.”

“That’s nice to hear. Did anyone ask Lisbeth Salander her opinion?”

“Quite frankly… we haven’t had the opportunity to speak with her yet. We hope to be able to do so tomorrow, if she’s well enough.”

“Fine. Then I’ll tell you here and now that until Fröken Salander says otherwise, you may regard me as her legal representative. You may not question her unless I am present. You can say hello to her and ask her whether she accepts me as her lawyer or not. But that is all. Is that understood?”