d have brought the here, but he went to the family crypt. martin stopped.
“i think y. you ahe only ones who know anything. you obviously haveo ahe police would have been here by now. a le blaze iage and the proof will be gone.”
“and if y?”
“if i’m wro really is over. but i don’t think it is. i’ll bet that you’re bluffing. and what other choice do i have? i’ll give that some thought. it’s that ale t who’s the weak link.”
“she went to sto at lunchtime.”
martin laughed.
“bluff away, mikael. she has been sitting in the archives at the vanger corporation offices all evening.”
blomkvist’s heart skipped a beat. he knew. he’s known all along.
“that’s right. the plan was to visit the ard then go to stokvist said. “i didn’t khere so long.”
“stop all this crap, mikael. the arager rahat dirch had let the girl stay there as late as she liked. whis she’ll ly be home. the night wat is going to call me when she leaves.”
part 4
hostile takeover
july 11 to december 30
wo peren in sweden who have beeo sexual assault have he most ret violehe police.
chapter 24
friday, july 11–saturday, july 12
marti dowhrough mikael’s pockets. he took the key.
“smart of you to ge the lock,” he said. “i’m going to take care irlfries back.”
blomkvist remi martior experienany industrial battles. he had already seen through one bluff.
“why?”
“why what?”
“why all of this?” blomkvist gestured vaguely at the spa.
marti dout one hand under blomkvist’s , liftiheir eyes met.
“because it’s so easy,” he said. “ear all the time. nobody misses them. immigrants. whores from russia. thousands of people pass through sweden every year.”
he let go of blomkvist’s head and stood up.
martin’s words hit blomkvist like a pun the face.
christ almighty. this is no historical mystery. martin vanger is murderioday. a into it…
“as it happens, i do right now. but it might amuse you to know that while you a around babbling this ring, there was a girl down here. irina from belarus. while you sat and ate dih me, she was lo the here. it leasant evening as i remember, no?”
martihe table, letting his legs dangle. blomkvist shut his eyes. he sudde a his throat and he swalloain in his gut and in his ribs seemed to swell.
“what do you do with the bodies?”
“i have my boat at the dht below here. i take them a long way out to sea. uher, i doraces. but he was smart too. he spread his victims out all over sweden.”
the puzzle pieces were falling into place.
ger. from 1949 until 1965. then martiing in 1966 in uppsala.
“you admire your father.”
“he was the oaught me. he initiated me when i was fourteen.”
“uddevalla. lea persson.”
“aren’t you clever? yes, i was there. i o i was there.”
“1964. sara witt in ronneby.”
“i was sixteen. it was the first time i had a woman. my father taught me. i was the orangled her.”
he’s bragging. good lord, what a revoltingly sick family.
“you ’t have any notion of how demehis is.”
“you are a very ordinary little person, mikael. you would o uhe godlike feeling of having absolute eoh.”
“you enj and killiin.”
“i don’t think so really. if i do aual analysis of my ore of a serial rapist than a serial murderer. in fa a serial kidhe killing is a natural ce, so to speak, because i have to hide my crime.
“of y as aren’t socially acceptable, but my crime is first a a crime agaiions of society. death doeshe end of my guests’ visits here, after i’ve growhem. it’s always so fasg to see their disappoi.”
“disappoi?”
“exactly. disappoihey imagi if they please me, they’ll live. they adapt to my rules. they start to trust me and develop a camaraderie with me, hoping to the very end that this camaraderie meahe disappoi es when it finally dawhey’ve beeruly screwed.”
martin walked arouable a
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