that monday had been a slow news day, a a whole four mihe 9:00 erviewed in a tv studio ihe repan by stating that after two decades of having stood ba the spotlight the industrialist henrik vanger was back. the segmeh a snappy biography in blad-white tv images, showing him with prime minister erlander aories iies. the camera theudio ser was sittily relaxed. he wore a yellow shirt, ie, and fortable dark-brown suit. he was gaunt, but he spoke in a clear, firm void he was also quite did. the reporter asked va had prompted him to bee a part owner of millennium.
“it’s a magazine which i have followed with great i for several years. today the publi is uack. it has enemies wh aising b to run it into the ground.”
the reporter repared for this, but guessed at ohe already unusual story had yet more us.
“what’s behind this boycott?”
“that’s ohat millennium will be exami i’ll make it illennium will h the first salvo.”
“is this why you bought into the magazine?”
“it would be deplorable if the speterests had the power to silehose voi the media that they find unfortable.”
vahough he had been a cultural radical espousing freedom of speech all his life. blomkvist burst out laughi his first eveniv room at rull?ker prison. his fellow inmates gla him uneasily.
later that evening, when he was lying on the bunk in his cell—whided him of a with its tis one d ohe wall, he admitted that vanger and berger had been right about hoould be marketed. he just k something had people’s attitude towards millennium.
vanger’s support was no more or less thaiaihe message was the future you will ing with a magazih a staff of six and an an di of a luhe wer?m group. you will now be up against the vanger corporation, which may be a shadow reatill presents a siderably te.
the message that vanger had delivered on tv was that he ared to fight, ar?m, that war would be costly.
berger had her words with care. she had not said much, but her saying that the magazi told its versiohe impression that there was something to tell. despite the fact that blomkvist had been individ risoned, she had e out and said—if not in so many words—that he was i of libel and that ah existed. precisely because she had he word “i,” his innoce seemed more apparehe fact that he was goied as publisher emphasised that mille had nothing to be ashamed of. ihe public, credibility roblem—everyone loves a spiracy theory, and in the choi a filthy riessman and an outspoken and g editor i was nuess where the public’s sympathies would lie. the media, however, were not going to buy the story so easily—but berger may have disarmed a ics.
he day’s events had ged the situatioally, but they had bought time and they had shifted the balance of power a little. blomkvist imagi wer?m had probably had a ever?m ot know how much, or how little, they knew, and before he made his move he was goio find out.
ressier turhe tv aer havi her own and theerview. it was 2:45 in the m, ao stifle the impulse to kvist. he was locked up, and it was u he was allowed to keep his mobile. she had arrived home so late that her husband . she wehe bar and poured herself a healthy measure le malt—she drank alcohol about once a year—and sat at the window, looking out across saltsj?house at the eo skuru sound.
she and blomkvist had argued heatedly when they were aloer she cluded the agreement with vahey had weathered many full-bluments about what ao use for a specific article, the design of the magaziion of their sources’ credibility, and a thousahings iing out a magazihe argument i house had tou pri made her aware she was on shak
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