“it’sbleedinglikehell,butit’snotdangerous,”blokvistsaidbeforeshecouldask.

    sheturnedandgotthefirst-aidkitfrothecupboard；itcontainedtwopacketsofelasticbandages,aosquitostick,andalittlerollofsurgicaltape.hepulledoffhisclothesanddroppedtheonthefloor；thenhewenttothebathroo.

    thewoundonhisteplewasagashsodeepthathecouldliftupabigflapofflesh.itwasstillbleedinganditneededstitches,buthethoughtitwouldprobablyhealifhetapeditclosed.heranatowelunderthecoldtapandwipedhisface.

    heheldthetowelagainsthisteplewhilehestoodundertheshowerandclosedhiseyes.thenheslaedhisfistagainstthetilesohardthathescrapedhisknuckles.fuckyou,whoeveryouare,hethought.i’goingtofindyou,andiwillgetyou.

    whensalandertouchedhisarhejupedasifhehadhadanelectricshockandstaredatherwithsuchangerinhiseyesthatshetookastepback.shehandedhithesoapandwentbacktothekitchenwithoutaword.

    heputonthreestripsofsurgicaltape.hewentintothebedroo,pulledonacleanpairofjeansandanewt-shirt,takingthefolderofprinted-outphotographswithhi.hewassofurioushewasalostshaking.

    “stayhere,lisbeth,”heshouted.

    hewalkedovertoceciliavanger’shouseandrangthedoorbell.itwashalfainutebeforesheopenedthedoor.

    “idon’twanttoseeyou,”shesaid.thenshesawhisface,wherebloodwasalreadyseepingthroughthetape.

    “letein.wehavetotalk.”

    shehesitated.“wehavenothingtotalkabout.”

    “wedonow,andyoucandiscussithereonthestepsorinthekitchen.”

    blokvist’stonewassodeterinedthatceciliasteppedbackandlethiin.hesatatherkitchentable.

    “whathaveyoudone？”shesaid.

    “youclaithatydiggingforthetruthaboutharrietvangerissoefutileforofoupationaltherapyforhenrik.that’spossible,butanhouragosoeonebloodynearlyshotyheadoff,andlastnightsoeone—aybethesaehuourist—leftahorriblydeadcatonyporch.”

    ceciliaopenedherouth,butblokvistcutheroff.

    “cecilia,idon’tgiveashitaboutyourhang-upsorwhatyouworryaboutorthefactthatyousuddenlyhatethesightofe.i’llneverenearyouagain,andyoudon’thavetoworrythati’goingtobotheryouorrunafteryou.rightthisinuteiwishi’dneverheardofyouoranyoneelseinthevangerfaily.butirequireanswerstoyquestions.thesooneryouanswerthe,thesooneryou’llberidofe.”

    “whatdoyouwanttoknow？”

    “nuberone:wherewereyouanhourago？”

    cecilia’sfacecloudedover.

    “anhouragoiwasinhedestad.”

    “cananyoneconfirwhereyouwere？”

    “notthaticanthinkof,andidon’thavetoaounttoyou.”

    “nubertwo:whydidyouopenthewindowinharriet’sroothedayshedisappeared？”

    “what？”

    “youhearde.foralltheseyearshenrikhastriedtoworkoutwhoopenedthewindowinharriet’srooduringthosecriticalinutes.everybodyhasdenieddoingit.soeoneislying.”

    “andwhatinhellakesyouthinkitwase？”

    “thispicture,”blokvistsaid,andflungtheblurryphotographontoherkitchentable.

    ceciliawalkedovertothetableandstudiedthepicture.blokvistthoughthecouldreadshockonherface.shelookedupathi.hefeltatrickleofbloodrundownhischeekanddropontohisshirt.

    “thereweresixtypeopleontheislandthatday,”hesaid.“andtwenty-eightofthewerewoen.fiveorsixofthehadshoulder-lengthblondehair.onlyoneofthosewaswearingalight-coloureddress.”

    shestaredintentlyatthephotograph.

    “andyouthinkthat’ssupposedtobee？”

    “ifitisn’tyou,i’dlikeyoutotellewhoyouthinkitis.nobodyknewaboutthispicturebefore.i’vehaditforweeksandtriedtotalktoyouaboutit.iaybeanidiot,butihaven’tshowedittohenrikoranyoneelsebecausei’deathlyafraidofcastingsuspiciononyouordoingyouwrong.butidohavetohaveananswer.”

    “you’llgetyouranswer.”sheheldoutthephotographtohi.“ididn’tgointoharriet’sroothatday.it’snoteinthepicture.ididn’thavetheslightestthingtodowithherdisappearance.”

    shewenttothefrontdoor.

    “youhaveyouranswer.nowpleasego.butithinkyoushouldhaveadoctorlookatthatwound.”

    salanderdrovehitohedestadhospital.ittookonlytwostitchesandagooddressingtoclosethewound.hewasgivencortisonesalvefortherashfrothestingingtlesonhisneckandhands.

    aftertheyleftthehospitalblokvistsatforalongtiewonderingwhetherheoughttogotothepolice.hecouldseetheheadlinesnow.“libeljournalistinshootingdraa.”heshookhishead.“let’sgohoe,”hesaid.

    itwasdarkwhentheyarrivedbackathedebyisland,andthatsuitedsalanderfine.sheliftedasportsbagontothekitchentable.

    “iborrowedthisstufffromiltonsecurity,andit’stieweadeuseofit.”

    sheplantedfourbattery-operatedotiondetectorsaroundthehouseandexplainedthatifanyonecaecloserthantwentyfeet,aradiosignalwouldtriggerasallchirpingalarthatshesetupinblokvist’sbedroo.atthesaetie,twolight-sensitivevideocaerasthatshehadputintreesatthefrontandbackofthecabinwouldsendsignalstoapclaptopthatshesetinthecupboardbythefrontdoor.shecaouflagedthecaeraswithdarkcloth.

    sheputathirdcaerainabirdhouseabovethedoor.shedrilledaholerightthroughthewallforthecable.thelenswasaiedattheroadandthepathfrothegatetothefrontdoor.ittookalow-resolutioniageeverysecondandstoredtheallontheharddriveofanotherpclaptopinthewardrobe.

    thensheputapressure-sensitivedooratintheentrance.ifsoeoneanagedtoevadetheinfrareddetectorsandgotintothehouse,15-decibelsirenwouldgooff.salanderdeonstratedforhihowtoshutoffthedetectorswithakeytoaboxinthewardrobe.shehadalsoborrowedanight-visionscope.

    “youdon’tleavealottochance,”blokvistsaid,pouringcoffeeforher.

    “oneorething.noorejogginguntilwecrackthis.”

    “believee,i’velostallinterestinexercise.”

    “i’notjoking.thisayhavestartedoutasahistoricalystery,butwhatwithdeadcatsandpeopletryingtoblowyourheadoffwecanbesurewe’reonsoebody’strail.”

    theyatedinnerlate.blokvistwassuddenlydeadtiredandhadasplittingheadache.hecouldhardlytalkanyore,sohewenttobed.

    salanderstayedupreadingthereportuntil2:00.

    chapter23

    friday,july11

    heawokeat6:00withthesunshiningthroughagapinthecurtainsrightinhisface.hehadavagueheadache,andithurtwhenhetouchedthebandage.salanderwasasleeponherstoachwithonearflungoverhi.helookeddownatthedragononhershoulderblade.

    hecountedhertattoos.aswellasawasponherneck,shehadalooparoundoneankle,anotherlooparoundthebicepsofherleftar,achinesesybolonherhip,andaroseononecalf.

    hegotoutofbedandpulledthecurtainstight.hewenttothebathrooandthenpaddedbacktobed,tryingtogetinwithoutwakingher.

    acoupleofhourslateroverbreakfastblokvistsaid,“howarewegoingtosolvethispuzzle？”

    “wesuupthefactswehave.wetrytofindore.”

    “fore,theonlyquestionis:why？isitbecausewe’retryingtosolvetheysteryaboutharriet,orbecausewe’veuncoveredahithertounknownserialkiller？”

    “thereustbeaconnection,”salandersaid.“ifharrietrealisedthattherewasaserialkiller,itcanonlyhavebeensoeonesheknew.ifwelookatthecastofcharactersinthesixties,therewereatleasttwodozenpossiblecandidates.todayhardlyanyoftheareleftexceptharaldvanger,whoisnotrunningaroundinthewoodsoffr？skogenatalostniy-threewithagun.everybodyiseithertoooldtobeofanydangertoday,ortooyoungtohavebeenaroundinthefifties.sowe’rebacktosquareone.”

    “unlesstherearetwopeoplewhoarecollaborating.oneolderandoneyounger.”

    “haraldandcecilia？idon’tthinkso.ithinkshewastellingthetruthwhenshesaidthatshewasn’tthepersoninthewindow.”

    “thenwhowasthat？”

    theyturnedonblokvist’siandspentthenexthourstudyingindetailonceagainallthepeoplevisibleinthephotographsoftheaidentonthebridge.

    “icanonlyassuethateveryoneinthevillageusthavebeendownthere,watchingalltheexciteent.itwassepteber.mostofthearewearingjacketsorsweaters.onlyonepersonhaslongblondehairandalight-coloureddress.”

    “ceciliavangerisinalotofthepictures.sheseestobeeverywhere.betweenthebuildingsandthepeoplewhoarelookingattheaident.hereshe’stalkingtoisabella.hereshe’sstandingnexttopastorfalk.hereshe’swithgregervanger,theiddlebrother.”

    “waitainute,”blokvistsaid.“whatdoesgregerhaveinhishand？”

    “soethingsquare-shaped.itlookslikeaboxofsoekind.”

    “it’sahasselblad.sohetoohadacaera.”

    theyscrolledthroughthephotographsoneoretie.gregerwasinoreofthe,thoughoftenblurry.inoneitcouldbeclearlyseenthathewasholdingasquare-shapedbox.

    “ithinkyou’reright.it’sdefinitelyacaera.”

    “whicheansthatwegoonanotherhuntforphotographs.”

    “ok,butlet’sleavethatforaoent,”salandersaid.“leteproposeatheory.”

    “goahead.”

    “whatifsoeoneoftheyoungergenerationknowsthatsoeoneoftheoldergenerationisaserialkiller,buttheydon’twantitacknowledged.thefaily’shonourandallthatcrap.thatwouldeanthattherearetwopeopleinvolved,butnotthatthey’reinittogether.theurderercouldhavediedyearsago,whileourneesisjustwantsustodropthewholethingandgohoe.”

    “butwhy,inthatcase,putautilatedcatonourporch？it’sanunistakablereferencetotheurders.”blokvisttappedharriet’sbible.“againaparodyofthelawsregardingburntofferings.”

    salanderleanedbackandlookedupatthechurchasshequotedfrothebible.itwasasifsheweretalkingtoherself.

    “thenheshallkillthebullbeforethelord；andaaron’ssonsthepriestsshallpresenttheblood,andtheyshallthrowthebloodroundaboutagainstthealtarthatisthedoorofthetentofeeting.andheshallflaytheburntofferingandcutitintopieces.”

    shefellsilent,awarethatblokvistwaswatchingherwithatenseexpression.heopenedthebibletothefirstchapterofleviticus.

    “doyouknowversetwelvetoo？”

    salanderdidnotreply.

    “andheshall…”hebegan,noddingather.

    “andheshallcutitintopieces,withitsheadanditsfat,andthepriestshalllaytheinorderuponthewoodthatisonthefireuponthealtar.”hervoicewasice.

    “andthenextverse？”

    abruptlyshestoodup.

    “lisbeth,youhaveaphotographiceory,”mikaelexclaiedinsurprise.“that’swhyyoucanreadapageoftheinvestigationintenseconds.”

    herreactionwasalostexplosive.shefixedhereyesonblokvistwithsuchfurythathewasastounded.thenherexpressionchangedtodespair,andsheturnedonherheelandranforthegate.

    “lisbeth,”heshoutedafterher.

    shedisappeareduptheroad.

    mikaelcarriedherputerinside,setthealar,andlockedthefrontdoorbeforehesetouttolookforher.hefoundhertwentyinuteslateronajettyatthearina.shewassittingthere,dippingherfeetinthewaterandsoking.sheheardhiingalongthejetty,andhesawhershouldersstiffen.hestoppedacoupleofpacesaway.

    “idon’tknohatidid,butididn’teantoupsetyou.”

    hesatdownnexttoher,tentativelyplacingahandonhershoulder.

    “please,lisbeth.talktoe.”

    sheturnedherheadandlookedathi.

    “there’snothingtotalkabout,”shesaid.“i’justafreak,that’sall.”

    “i’dbeoverjoyedifyeorywaswhatyoursis.”

    shetossedthecigaretteendintothewater.

    mikaelsatinsilenceforalongtie.whataisupposedtosay？you’reaperfectlyordinarygirl.whatdoesitatterifyou’realittledifferent？whatkindofself-iagedoyouhave,anyway？

    “ithoughttherewassoethingdifferentaboutyoutheinstantisawyou,”hesaid.“andyouknohat？it’sbeenareallylongtiesincei’vehadsuchaspontaneousgoodipressionofanyonefrotheverybeginning.”

    soechildrencaeoutofacabinontheothersideoftheharbourandjupedintothewater.thepainter,eugennoran,withwhoblokviststillhadnotexchangedasingleword,wassittinginachairoutsidehishouse,suckingonhispipeasheregardedblokvistandsalander.

    “ireallywanttobeyourfriend,ifyou’lllete,”hesaid.“butit’suptoyou.i’goingbacktothehousetoputonsoeorecoffee.ehoewhenyoufeellikeit.”

    hegotupandleftherinpeace.hewasonlyhalfwayupthehillwhenheheardherfootstepsbehindhi.theywalkedhoetogetherwithoutexchangingaword.

    shestoppedhijustastheyreachedthehouse.

    “iwasintheprocessofforulatingatheory…wetalkedaboutthefactthatallthisisaparodyofthebible.it’struethathetookacatapart,butisupposeitwouldbehardtogetholdofanox.buthe’sfollowingthebasicstory.iwonder…”shelookedupatthechurchagain.“andtheyshallthrowthebloodroundaboutagainstthealtarthatisthedoorofthetentofeeting…”

    theywalkedoverthebridgetothechurch.blokvisttriedthedoor,butitwaslocked.theywanderedaroundforawhile,lookingathead-stonesuntiltheycaetothechapel,whichstoodashortdistanceaway,downbythewater.allofasuddenblokvistopenedhiseyeswide.itwasnotachapel,itwasacrypt.abovethedoorhecouldreadthenaevangerchiselledintothestone,alongwithaverseinlatin,buthecouldnotdecipherit.

    “‘slubertotheendoftie,’”salandersaidbehindhi.

    blokvistturnedtolookather.sheshrugged.

    “ihappenedtoseethatversesoewhere.”

    blokvistroaredwithlaughter.shestiffenedandatfirstshelookedfurious,butthensherelaxedwhensherealisedthathewaslaughingattheedyofthesituation.

    blokvisttriedthedoor.itw

    15

    aslocked.hethoughtforaoent,thentoldsalandertositdownandwaitforhi.hewalkedovertoseeannanygrenandknocked.heexplainedthathewantedtohaveacloserlookatthefailycrypt,andhewonderedwherehenrikightkeepthekey.annalookeddoubtful,butshecollectedthekeyfrohisdesk.

    assoonastheyopenedthedoor,theyknewthattheyhadbeenright.thestenchofburnedcadaverandcharredreainshungheavyintheair.butthecattorturerhadnotadeafire.inonecornerstoodablowtorch,thekindusedbyskierstoeltthewaxontheirskis.salandergotthecaeraoutofthepocketofherjeansskirtandtooksoepictures.then,gingerly,shepickeduptheblowtorch.

    “thiscouldbeevidence.heighthaveleftfingerprints,”shesaid.

    “ohsure,wecanaskthevangerfailytolineupandgiveustheirfingerprints.”blokvistsiled.“iwouldlovetowatchyougetisabella’s.”

    “thereareways,”salandersaid.

    therewasagreatdealofbloodonthefloor,notallofitdry,aswellasaboltcutter,whichtheyreckonedhadbeenusedtocutoffthecat’shead.

    blokvistlookedaround.araisedsarcophagusbelongedtoalexandrevangeersad,andfourgravesinthefloorhousedthereainsoftheearliestfailyebers.morerecentlythevangershadapparentlysettledforcreation.aboutthirtynichesonthewallhadthenaesoftheclanancestors.blokvisttracedthefailychronicleforwardintie,wonderingwheretheyburiedfailyeberswhowerenotgivenspaceinsidethecrypt—thosenotdeeediportantenough.

    “noeknow,”blokvistsaidastheywerere-crossingthebridge.“we’rehuntingforthepletelunatic.”

    “whatdoyouean？”

    blokvistpausedintheiddleofthebridgeandleanedontherail.

    “ifthiswassoerun-of-the-illcrackpotwhowastryingtofrightenus,hewouldhavetakenthecatdowntothegarageorevenoutintothewoods.buthewenttothecrypt.there’ssoethingpulsiveaboutthat.justthinkoftherisk.it’ssuerandpeopleareoutandaboutatnight,goingforwalks.theroadthroughtheceeteryisaainroadbetweenthenorthandsouthofhedeby.evenifheshutthedoorbehindhi,thecatusthaveraisedcain,andthereusthavebeenaburningsell.”

    “he？”

    “idon’tthinkthatceciliavangerwouldbecreepingaroundhereinthenightwithablowtorch.”

    salandershrugged.

    “idon’ttrustanylastoneofthe,includingfrodeoryourfriendhenrik.they’reallpartofafailythatwouldswindleyouiftheyhadthechance.sowhatdowedonow？”

    blokvistsaid,“i’vediscoveredalotofsecretsaboutyou.howanypeople,forexaple,knowthatyou’reahacker？”

    “no-one.”

    “no-oneexcepte,youean.”

    “whatareyougettingat？”

    “iwanttoknowifyou’reokwithe.ifyoutruste.”

    shelookedathiforalongoent.finally,forananswer,sheonlyshrugged.

    “there’snothingicandoaboutit.”

    “doyoutruste？”blokvistpersisted.

    “forthetiebeing,”shesaid.

    “good.let’sgoovertoseefrode.”

    thiswasthefirsttieadvokatfrode’swifehadetsalander.shegaveherawide-eyedlookatthesaetieas