Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen

At five o'clock in the morning on Wednesday, Figuelaura woke up differently than usual. He only went for a short trot before going home to shower and change. He put on black jeans, a white top and a light gray linen jacket.She made coffee, poured it into a thermos, and made sandwiches.Finally, put on the shoulder holster and remove the light pistol from the gun cabinet.Just after six, she drove her white Saab 95 to the Waitangi Road in Willingby. Morrison's apartment is located on the top floor of a three-story building in the suburbs.The day before, she had collected all the public information about him.He was unmarried, but that didn't mean he wasn't cohabiting; he had no blemishes on his police record, no large fortunes, he didn't seem to be living a profligate life, and he rarely called in sick.

The only suspicious thing is that he has licenses for no less than sixteen firearms, including three shotguns and various pistols.Of course, as long as you have a license, you can't break the law, but Figelora has always been deeply suspicious of anyone with such a large-scale weapon. The Volvo with the license plate beginning with KAB was parked in the parking lot about 30 meters away from Figuelaura's parking lot.She poured black coffee into a paper cup and began eating a lettuce and cheese sandwich on a baguette.Then she peeled an orange and sucked the juice out of every clove. During her rounds in the morning, Salander was very unwell and had a severe headache.She begged for a Tylenol and got it right away.

An hour later, the headache got worse.She rang for a nurse to give her another Tylenol, but it didn't work.By lunchtime the pain was so unbearable that the nurse had to call in Dr. Andrin.After a quick examination, the doctor prescribed a strong painkiller. Salander hid the pill under her tongue and waited until everyone was out before spitting it out. At two o'clock in the afternoon, she vomited once, and again around three o'clock. At four o'clock, just as Dr. Andrin was going home, Jonathan came.They discussed briefly. "She didn't feel well, and she had a bad headache. I prescribed Dexofen. I don't know why, it's been so good for a while, maybe it's a bit of a cold..."

"Do you have a fever?" Jonathan asked. "No, my body temperature was thirty-seven degrees two an hour ago." "I'll keep an eye out for her tonight." "I'm going to take a three-week vacation." Andlin said, "You or Svetsen will take care of her, but Svetsen doesn't know much about her..." "During your vacation, I will be in charge of being her attending doctor." "That's good. Call me anytime in case of an emergency and need assistance." They came to Salander's hospital bed and took a look. She pulled up the quilt to cover half of her face, looking pitiful.Jonathan touched her forehead with his hand, feeling a little wet.

"I think we'll have to do a quick check." After he thanked Andrin, Andrin left immediately. At five o'clock, Jonathan noticed that Salander's temperature recorded in the medical records had risen to thirty-seven degrees eight.He went to see her three times that night, and his body temperature was kept at 37 degrees 8 degrees, which was of course too high, but it was not enough to cause major problems.At eight, he ordered a brain X-ray. After the X-ray film came out, he studied it very carefully, but he didn't see anything particularly noteworthy, but he found a darker area that was almost invisible to the naked eye next to the bullet hole.So he wrote a vague and general comment on the medical record with cautious words: "The radiographic examination cannot draw a definite conclusion, but the patient's condition continued to deteriorate during the day. The possibility of micro-bleeding cannot be ruled out, but it is not obvious on the X-ray. Come out. The patient must be bedridden and closely monitored for the next few days."

After entering the newspaper at 6:30 on Wednesday morning, Erica received twenty-three e-mails. one of which was sent from bitch She raised her index finger to delete the message, but changed her mind at the last moment.She went back to the company's internal mailbox and opened the message she received two days ago.The sender is [email protected] it looks like... both emails contain the word "bitch" and the senders are pretending to be the media.She created a new folder called "Media Stupid" and stored the two messages in it.Then I started busy with the morning memo.

This morning, Morrison went out at 7:40, got into his Volvo and drove towards the city, but then turned to cross Stora Eschingen and Glendal into Sodermalm Island.He drove along Horns Road, via Blancheelka Road to Bellman Road, then turned left at the Bishop's Arm bar on Tawas Street, and the car was parked around the corner. Just as Figuelaura arrived at the Bishop's Arm, a van drove away, leaving a space at the corner of Bellman Road.She was condescending and had an unobstructed view, and she could just see the rear window of Morrison's Volvo.The building directly in front of her was No. 1 Bellman Road, on the steep slope down towards Price Lane.She was facing the side of the building and couldn't see the main entrance, but anyone who came out could see it.She was very sure that this address was the reason Mo Tiansen was here.There was the door to Blomkvist's apartment.

Figuelaura could see that it would be impossible to keep an eye on the area around No. 1 Bellman Rue.On Upper Behrmann Road, the pedestrian zone and sky bridge near the Maria public lift and the Lorinska House are the only places where the building entrance can be directly observed.There was simply no place to park there, and watchers standing on overpasses were as obvious as swallows perched on old telephone wires in the countryside.The intersection of Bellman Road and Tawas Street where Figuelaura parked is basically the only place where she can sit in the car and see the whole situation, which can be said to be extremely lucky.It's not ideal here, though, because anyone who is more alert will see her in the car.It's just that she doesn't want to get out of the car and walk around, she is too easy to attract attention.As an undercover investigator, her appearance is rather unfavorable.

Blomkvist showed up at ten past nine.Figuelaura marked the time.She saw him looking up at the overpass on Bellman Road, and then started up the slope and was coming towards her. She opened her handbag, opened the map of Stockholm on the passenger seat, then opened her notebook, took out the pen in the jacket pocket, and took out her mobile phone to pretend to be on the phone. She lowered her head as much as possible so that the hand holding the mobile phone partially covered it s face. She saw Blomkvist glance down Travas Street.He knew that someone was watching him, and he must have seen Mo Tiansen's Volvo, but he continued walking without taking a second look.Be calm and collected.Someone else would have tore open the door and beat up the driver.

Then he passed Figuelaura's car.She was busy looking for a map and talking on the phone, but she could still feel Blomkvist watching her as he passed.Be skeptical of everything around you.She saw him in the passenger side mirror as he continued down Horns Road.She had seen him a few times on TV and this was the first time she had seen him in person.He is wearing blue jeans, a T-shirt, a gray jacket, and a shoulder bag, and walks at a slow pace.Is a good-looking man. Morrison turned around from the corner of the "Bishop's Arm" bar and watched Blomkvist leave.He was carrying a large gym bag over his shoulder and had just finished a call on his cell phone.Figuelaura thought he would be tailing his quarry, but to her surprise he crossed the road directly in front of her car and headed downhill toward Blomkvist's apartment complex.After a while, a man in blue work pants passed by her car and caught up with Mo Tiansen.hello where did you come from

They stopped outside the Blomkvist apartment complex.Mo Tiansen pressed the password, and the two immediately entered the stairwell.They are looking at the apartment.Amateur orgy night?What the hell did he think he was doing? Then Figolaura looked up in the rearview mirror and was startled when he saw Blomkvist again.He was standing about ten meters behind her - close enough to look over the crest of the escarpment at No. 1 Bellman Road - and was watching the movements of Morrison and his companions.She stared at his face, he didn't look at her, but saw Mo Tiansen walk into the main entrance of his building.After a moment, he turned and continued his stroll towards Horns Road. Figueraura sat still for half a minute.He knew that he was being watched, and he paid attention to all the movements around him.But why is there no response?A normal person would react, and it would be very strong... He must have something in mind. Blomkvist hung up the phone, his eyes fixed on the laptop on the table.He had just learned from the Superintendent's Office that the car he saw a blonde woman sitting in on the top of Bellman Road was owned by Monica Figuelaura, born in 1969 and living in King's Rue Pentongne on the island.Since there was a woman in the car, Blomkvist thought it was Figuelaura herself. She was on the phone and looking at a map flipped open in the passenger seat, and it didn't make sense to think she had anything to do with the Zarachenko Club, but Blomkvist took note of all the eccentricities of the workday. things, especially in the neighborhood where he lived. He called Rota in. "Who is this woman? Find out her passport photo, where she works, and everything else you can find." Selber was stunned.He pushed away the paper with the nine points Erica was going to make at the budget committee's weekly meeting.Frodin also looked sad.As for Chairman Bo She, his face was as expressionless as usual. "It's impossible." Selbo said with a polite smile. "Why?" Erica asked. "The board will absolutely not accept it. It makes no sense at all." "Need to start all over again?" Erica said. "I was hired to get the Swedish Morgan Post back into the money. To do that, I have to have leverage, don't I?" "Of course, but..." "I can't sit in a glass cage, wave a magic wand, say a spell, and conjure up the content of the daily newspaper." "You don't know much about our financial difficulties." "Maybe, but I know how to edit a newspaper. In fact, the Swedish Morgan Post has lost 118 employees over the past fifteen years, and half of them are American editors, replaced by new technology. ...But during the same period, the number of journalists in charge of writing also decreased by forty-eight.” "Those were necessary downsizing. If it hadn't been for layoffs, the paper would have been closed. At least Moreland understood the need for downsizing." "We'll wait to see what's necessary and what's not. In the past three years, nineteen journalist positions have been lost. In addition, there are currently nine vacancies in the newspaper, some of which are filled by special correspondents. The sports section is severely understaffed. , there should have been nine employees, but the two vacant seats have not been filled for more than a year." "It's about saving money, simple as that." "There are three unfilled slots in the cultural section, one in the business section, and the legal news section is dead in name only...the editor-in-chief there has to borrow a reporter from the social news section for every story, and so on. The Swedish Morgan Post also has at least eight has not seriously reported news about civil servants and government agencies in 2010, and has always relied on freelance writers and TT News Agency. There is no newsroom overseeing civil servants and government agencies." "The newspaper industry is in a fragile position right now..." "The fact is that the Swedish Morgan Post will either close its doors immediately, or the board of directors should find a way to take strong measures. Now we need more manuscripts every day, but we have fewer staff, and the manuscripts they hand over are terrible, superficial, Unreliable. That’s why the Swedish Morgan Post has fewer readers.” "You don't understand the situation..." "Stop saying I don't understand the situation, I've had enough. I'm not here to work just to earn some transportation money!" "But your proposal is crazy." "How to say?" "You propose that newspapers should not make money." "Listen, Selber, you're going to pay the newspaper's twenty-three shareholders a huge dividend this year, plus those extra dividends that are so absurd that the nine people on the board of directors alone will cost almost ten million crowns. You also gave yourself a bonus of 400,000 crowns for layoffs. Of course, this is nothing compared to the huge dividends that some executives of Scandina companies plundered, but in my eyes, you don’t even have a penny. Bonuses are undeserving. Bonuses should be paid to those who make the newspaper stronger, and your layoff policy is weakening the newspaper and leaving us in a deeper hole." "It's so unfair to say that. The measures I've proposed have all been approved by the board." "Of course the directors will approve of your approach, because you are guaranteed a dividend every year. This must stop, and immediately." "So you are very serious about recommending that the board cancel dividends and dividends. How do you think the shareholders will agree?" "I propose to prepare a zero-profit operating budget this year, which will save nearly 21 million kroner, increase the manpower of the newspaper, and strengthen the financial position. I also propose a salary cut for the supervisor. I receive 80,000 per month. Eight thousand kroner, that's absurd for a newspaper that can't even fill a single vacancy in the sports section." "So you want to cut your own salary? Are you advocating some kind of wage communism?" "Stop talking to me about this. If you add the annual bonus, you can get 112,000 crowns a month. That's crazy. If the newspaper's operation is stable and it makes a lot of money, you can pay as much bonus as you want. .But now is not the time for you to increase your own bonus. I recommend that all executives take a half salary." "What you don't understand is that shareholders buy our stock because they want to make money, and that's called capitalism. If you're going to make them lose money, they won't want to be shareholders again." "I'm not asking them to lose money, but it could end up being that way. Ownership also covers liability. You said it yourself, the point is capitalism. Everyone at the Swedish Morgan Post wants to make a profit, but it's up to you to make or lose money. Let the market decide. According to your theory, you only want to apply capitalism to the employees of the newspaper, but you and the shareholders are exempt." Selber rolled his eyes and sighed.He turned to Boshe for help, but the chairman was concentrating on Erica's nine-point plan. Figuelaura waited for forty-nine minutes before Mo Tiansen and his companions in work pants walked out of No. 1 Bellman Road.As they walked uphill toward her, she held up the Nikon 300mm telephoto lens steadily and took two shots.Then he put the camera in the space under the driver's seat, and when he was about to pretend to check the map again, he casually aimed in the direction of the Maria elevator, and his eyes widened.At the end of Upper Bellman Road, right next to the door of Maria's elevator, stood a dark-haired woman with a digital camera, taking pictures of Mo Tiansen and his companions.How did it happen?Is there some kind of spy conference going on here on Bellman Road today? The two of them parted at the top of the hill without saying a word.Mo Tiansen returned to the car parked on Tawas Street, started it, drove away from the side of the road, and disappeared out of sight. Figuelaura could still see the back of the man in blue work pants from the rearview mirror.At this time, she also saw that the woman with the camera stopped taking pictures, but walked in her direction, passing the Lorinska House. Who should I chase first?She already knew Mo Tiansen's identity and intentions, and the man in blue work pants and the woman with the camera were both unidentified entities.But if you get out of the car, you will probably be seen by the woman. Sitting still, she watched in the rearview mirror the man in the blue overalls turning into Blancheel Road.The woman came to the intersection in front of her, but instead of following the man in overalls, she turned 180 degrees downhill and walked towards No. 1 Bellman Road.Figuelaura estimated she was in her mid-thirties, with short dark hair, dark jeans and a black jacket.After she walked a little farther, Figuolaura opened the car door and ran towards Blancheerka Road, but she couldn't see the blue overalls.In the next second, a Toyota van drove away from the side of the road.Figuelaura saw the man's side face, and immediately wrote down the car number.But even if he misremembered the number, he could still be tracked down. There was an ad on the side of the van for "Lars Fossom Locks," along with a phone number. No need to chase the van.She walked slowly back to the top of the hill just in time to see the woman enter the gate of the Blomkvist apartment complex. She went back to the car and wrote down the car number and Lars Fosson's phone number.This morning, there were many mysterious activities near Blomkvist's residence.She looked up at the roof of No. 1 Bellman Road. She knew that Blomkvist lived on the top floor, but according to the floor plan of the city government's construction management office, the apartment was on the other side of the building, with dormer windows overlooking the old city and the Cavaliers. bay waters.A unique location in a high-class ancient cultural district.She wondered if he was an upstart who liked to show off. Ten minutes later, the woman with the camera walked out of the building again, but instead of going uphill and heading back to Tawas Street, she continued downhill to Price Lane and turned right.Ok.If she parks in Price Lane, Figuelaura is out of luck, but if she walks, there's only one exit from the cul-de-sac, from Puest Lane in the direction of Slussen to Blanchelka Road . Figuelaura decided to leave the car behind and turned left on Via Blanchelica toward Slusen.When approaching Puster Lane, the woman appeared and was coming towards her.bingo!She followed the woman past the Hilton on Sodermalm Square and the Stedelijk Museum in Slusen.The woman's footsteps were quick and decisive, without looking around.Figuelaura followed her about thirty meters behind.When she walked into the Slusen subway station, Figuolaura quickly stepped up, but when she saw that she was walking towards the newsstand instead of passing through the ticket gate, she stopped immediately. She watched the woman line up in front of the newsstand, about 170 centimeters tall, with a pretty good figure, wearing sneakers on her feet.Seeing her feet standing firmly by the window of the newsstand, Figuolaura suddenly felt that she was a policewoman.After buying a can of Catch Dry smokeless tobacco, she went back to Sodermalm Square and turned right across Via Catalina. Figuelaura followed, and it was almost certain that the woman did not see her.The woman turned the corner at the McDonald's, and Figuelaura hurried to catch up, but when she reached the corner, the woman had disappeared without a trace.Figueraura stopped suddenly, startled.Damn.She walked slowly through the gates of the buildings, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a bronze plaque that said "Milton Security". Figuelaura walked back to Behrmann Road. She drove to Yote Road, where the Millennium magazine office was located, and walked around the nearby streets for half an hour, but she didn't see Mo Tiansen's car.Back at the Kings Island main office at lunchtime, she spent two hours in the gym, lifting weights and thinking. "There's a problem," Kertesz said. Marlene and Blomkvist, who were reading the manuscript on the Zarachenko case, both raised their heads.It was half past one in the afternoon. "Sit down." Marlene said. "It has something to do with Vittawala, the company that manufactures toilets worth seventeen hundred crowns in Vietnam." "What's the problem?" Blomkvist asked. "Vita Vala is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Svia Construction." "I see, it's a very large company." "That's right, the chairman, Bosher, is a professional director and the chairman of the Swedish Morgan Post, owning 10% of the shares." Blomkvist shot Kertesz sharply. "are you sure?" "Sure, Erica's boss is a damn liar who specializes in exploiting Vietnamese child labor." "Too bad!" said Marlene. At two o'clock in the afternoon, when Deputy Editor-in-Chief Fredericsen came to Erica's glass cage and knocked on the door, he seemed to be in a bad mood. "What's the matter?" "It's a little embarrassing, but someone in the newsroom got your email." "I sent it? What's written on it?" He handed her some typed-out mail, addressed to Eva Carlson, a twenty-six-year-old special correspondent for the Culture page, from Dear Eva: I want to caress you and kiss your breasts.I was so passionate that I couldn't control myself.Please return my affection.Shall we meet up?Erica And two more emails in the next few days: Dearest Eva: Please don't turn me down, I'm so horny.I want to hug you naked, I want to have you.I will make you very happy, you will never regret it.I want to kiss every inch of your skin, your wonderful breasts, and your lovely holes.Erica Eva: Why don't you write back?Don't be afraid of me.don't push me away.You are no longer an innocent girl, you know all this.I want to have sex with you and I will give you a good reward.As long as you treat me well, I will treat you well.You asked for an extension of the working period, and I have the power to extend or even make you full-time.Meet me at my car in the garage tonight at nine o'clock.your Erica "Okay," said Erica, "so she's wondering if I wrote it, isn't it?" "It's not like that either...I mean...Jesus." "Fedriesen, please tell me." "When she received the first letter, she was surprised, but a little dubious. Then she realized that it was not your style, and..." "And what?" "She's embarrassed and doesn't know what to do. Part of it is probably because she's impressed with you and likes you...I mean like you as a boss. That's why she asked for my opinion." "What did you tell her?" "I said someone was using your email address to obviously harass her and possibly both of you. I said I'd talk to you." "Thank you. Would you please ask her to come to my office in ten minutes?" During this time Erica wrote her own e-mail. I have received reports that a newspaper employee has received several emails that appear to be from me that contain crude sexual innuendo.I myself have received similar emails from a sender claiming to be "centraled" from the Swedish Morgan Post.But that email address doesn't exist. I asked the IT manager and he told me it's very easy to fake the sender's address.I don't know how to do it, but it can be done through some websites on the Internet.I have to assume that there is a psycho who is doing this kind of thing. I wonder if any other colleagues have received strange letters.If so, ask them to inform Frederickson immediately.If these dastardly shenanigans continue, we'll have to consider calling the police. Managing Editor Erica Bayeux After she printed out the contents, she sent the letter to all employees in the company.At this time, Eva knocked on the door. "Hi, sit down, please." Erica said, "Fedresen said you received a letter from me." "Actually, I don't think it was you who sent it." "I did send you a letter thirty seconds ago. I wrote it myself and sent it to everyone in the company." She handed the printed letter to Eva. "Okay, I see," Eva said. "I'm sorry that you were targeted by someone who did such an ugly thing." "You don't have to apologize for someone's idiotic behavior." "I just want to make sure you don't have the slightest suspicion that I have anything to do with these letters." "I never believed it was you who sent it." "Thank you." Erica said with a slight smile. Figuelaura spent the afternoon gathering information.First, call Lars Fosson's passport photo, and then check the criminal record, and you will be rewarded immediately. Forty-seven-year-old Fosun, nicknamed Fallon, started his criminal career at seventeen and began stealing cars.He was arrested twice during the 1970s and 1980s and prosecuted for break and enter, theft and receiving stolen goods.The first time he was sentenced to prison for a light sentence, and the second time he was sentenced to three years.At the time he was considered a "promising prospect" in criminal circles and was being questioned for his involvement in three other thefts, one of which was a complex and well-reported insurance case at a department store in Westeros. Cabinet robbery.After he got out of prison in 1984, he was rehabilitated—or at least he didn't do anything bad to get arrested and sentenced again.However, he relearned lockpicking technology (what a coincidence), and in 1987 he established a lock and key company in Nordur, Stockholm. Confirming the identity of the woman who filmed Morrison and Fallon was easier than she expected.She called Milton security directly and said that she wanted to find the female staff member she had contacted a while ago, but forgot her name for a while.She described the woman's appearance carefully.The switchboard said it sounded like Susan Lind and connected her.After Susan answered the phone, Figuelaura quickly apologized and said she had made the wrong call. According to household registration data, there are 18 Susan Linds in Stockholm County, and three of them are around 35 years old.One lives in Nordtalje, one in Stockholm and one in Naka.She consulted their passport photos and immediately recognized the woman she followed from Bellman Road as Susan Lind who lived in Naka. After sorting out the work of the day, she went to see Ai Kelinte. Blomkvist closed Kertesz's investigative binder and pushed it aside in disgust.Christ also put down the article, which he had read four times.Kertesz sat on the sofa in Marlene's office with a guilty face. "Drink coffee." Marlene said as she got up and left. When she came back, she brought four mugs and a pot of coffee. "It's a great bad story," says Blomkvist. "A top-notch investigation, well-documented, perfectly written story about a bad guy who uses the system — and legally — to scam tenants in Sweden, but so Greedy, so stupid outsourcing to this company in Vietnam." "The writing is also very good." Christ said: "The second day after we published, Bosher will become a person of unpopularity. The TV station will also respond. He will immediately talk to the Scandina executives. Became a bird of a feather. Great Millennium exclusive. Well done, Kertesz." "It's just that Erica is involved in this matter, which is really disappointing." Blomkvist said. "What's so troubling?" Marlene said, "It's not Erica's bad thing. We have the right to inspect any chairman, even her boss." "It's really hard to choose," Blomkvist said. "Erica isn't completely out of here," Crist said. "She owns 30 percent of Millennium and is one of our directors. In fact, until the next board meeting, which is to Until August, before Hailey was re-elected, she was also the chairman. In addition, Erica worked for the "Sweden Morgan Post" and also served as a director, but now we want to expose her chairman." There was a depressed silence. "Then what should we do?" Kertesz asked, "Shut it out?" Blomkvist looked directly at Kertesz. "No, Kertez, we're not going to pull this one. It's not Millennium style. But it needs to go a little further. We can't just throw this on Erica's desk as news." Christ held up a finger and shook it. "We've really cornered Erica. She's going to have to choose between selling her stake in Millennium, stepping down from the board...or worse yet, she could be fired from the Swedish Morgan Post Either way, she's going to face a terrible conflict of interest. Honestly, Kertesz... I agree with Michael that the story should be published, but maybe with a month's delay." "Because we also face conflicts of sentiment," Blomkvist said. "Should I call her?" "No, Krist," Blomkvist said. "I'll call her and arrange a meeting. Just tonight." Figuelaura briefly recounted the lively scene that suddenly appeared near Blomkvist's residence on Bellman Road.After Aikelint heard this, he felt that the floor under the chair seemed to be shaking slightly. "NSA operatives entered Blomkvist's apartment complex with a safe robber turned locksmith?" "That's right." "What do you think they're doing in the stairwell?" "Don't know. But they were in there for forty-nine minutes, and I guess Fallon opened the door, and Morrison was in Blomkvist's apartment during that time." "What are they doing there?" "Can't be bugging, because that would only take about a minute. Mortenson must have gone through Blomkvist's files or whatever he had in the house." "But Blomkvist is on the alert...they stole Bjork's report from his house." "Yeah. He knows he's being watched, and he's watching those who watch him. He has a plan." "What plan?" "I mean he has a plan. He's gathering information to expose Morrison. That's the only reasonable explanation." "And what about this woman named Susan?" "Susan Lind, formerly a policeman." "Policemen?" "She graduated from police school, and after six years with the Sodermalm Crime Squad, she suddenly resigned. No reason is mentioned at all in the file. After being out of work for a few months, she was hired by Milton Security." "Amansky." Aiklint said thoughtfully, "How long has she been in the building?" "Nine minutes." "do what?" "I guess she was documenting their movements because she was filming Morrison and Fallon in the street. That means Milton Security worked with Blomkvist and had set up surveillance cameras in his apartment or stairwell beforehand. She Most likely going in to get the tape." Aikelint sighed.Things started to get extremely complicated for Zarachenko. "Thank you. You go back, I have to think about it." Figuelaura went to the gym in St. Eric's Square. Blomkvist used another cell phone to call Erica at the Swedish Morgan Post.She was discussing with editors what angle to approach an article on international terrorism when she got his call. "Oh, hi, it's you... wait a minute." Erica put her hand on the receiver. "I think that's enough," she said, giving them one last instruction.After everyone had left, she said, "Hello, Michel. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch with you, but I'm too busy here. There's a lot to learn. How's the Salander business?" " "Fine. But that's not what I called you for. I have to see you, tonight." "I wish I could, but I've got to stay till eight. I'm so exhausted, and I came at dawn. What's the matter?" "We'll talk about it when we meet, but it's not a good thing." "I'll be at your house at half past eight." "No, not at my house. It's a long story, but my house is not suitable at the moment. Let's go to 'Samir's Cauldron' for a beer." "I'm driving." "Then have a light beer." Erica was slightly annoyed when she walked into Samir's pot.She felt a little guilty because she hadn't contacted Blomkvist once since the day she walked into the Swedish Morgan Post. Blomkvist sat in the corner and waved at her. She stopped at the door, feeling strange to him for a moment.Who's that guy over there?God, I'm so tired.Then he got up and kissed her on the cheek, and she realized how much she hadn't thought of him for weeks, how much she missed him.As if this time at the Swedish Morgan Post was a dream, she might wake up on the couch at Millennium.It feels so unreal. "Hi, Michael." "Hi, editor. Have you eaten yet?" "It's eight-thirty. I don't have your nasty eating habits." When Samir arrived with the menu, she realized she was hungry and ordered a beer and a small plate of fried squid and Greek potatoes.Blomkvist ordered steamed chicken and beer. "How are you?" she asked. "It's an interesting time, and I'm busy too." "How's Salander?" "She's part of what makes life interesting." "Michel, I'm not going to steal your story." "I'm not trying to run away from your question, it's just that everything's a bit of a mess right now. I'd love to tell you all about it, but it's going to take me half the night. How's the editor-in-chief?" "It's not like Millennium there. I fall asleep like a blown candle when I get home, and every day I open my eyes to the budget spreadsheet. I miss you so much. We can't go back to sleep with you I don't have the energy for sex, but I'd love to curl up next to you and sleep." "I'm sorry, Lily, but my place is not the right place now." "Why? Is something wrong?" "Well, a couple of spies bugged up there and should hear everything I say. I set up a video camera to record what happens when I'm not around. I guess it's best not to have any nude footage of you Appears in state archives." "Are you joking?" "No. But that's not why I'm seeing you tonight." "What's the matter? Tell me." "Then I'll be blunt. We found a piece of bad news about your chairman about his use of child labor and exploitation of political prisoners in Vietnam. We have a conflict of interest." Erica put down her fork and looked at him intently, knowing at a glance that he was not joking. "The thing is like this." He explained: "Boshe is the chairman and major shareholder of a construction company named Svia, and this company has opened a wholly-owned subsidiary named Vita Vala. They found Toilets are made in a factory in Vietnam that has been accused by the United Nations of using child labor." "Say it to me again." Blomkvist told her in detail the information Kertesz had collected.He opened his computer bag and took out copies of all relevant information.Erica read the article slowly, and finally raised her head to meet Blomkvist's eyes.She felt an irrational fear mixed with doubt. “我不懂，为什么我前脚才踏出《千禧年》，你们后脚就跟着去查《瑞典摩根邮报》董事会成员的背景？” “不是这样的，小莉。”他向她解释这篇报道的发展经过。 “你们知道这个多久了？” “今天，今天下午才知道。事情发展至此，我感到非常难受。” "What are you going to do?" “不知道。我们非刊登不可，不能只因为和你的老板有关就破例。可是我们谁都不想伤害你。”他双手一摊。“这个情形让大家都难过得不得了，尤其是柯特兹。” “我还是《千禧年》董事会的一员，我是共同所有人……外人会以为……” “我非常清楚外人会怎么看。这下你在《瑞典摩根邮报》麻烦可大了。” 爱莉卡顿时感到疲惫不堪。她咬咬牙，克制住冲动，没有开口要求布隆维斯特将消息压下。 “真该死。”她咒道：“你心里毫无怀疑……” 布隆维斯特摇摇头。“我花了整个下午看过柯特兹的证据资料。博舍只能任我们宰割。” “那么你们打算怎么做，什么时候？” “如果我们在两个月前发掘这则消息，你会怎么做？” 爱莉卡目不转睛地凝视眼前这个过去二十年来的友人兼情夫，过了一会儿垂下双眼。 “你知道我会怎么做。” “这一切都是不幸的巧合，无一是针对你个人，我实在非常、非常遗憾。所以我才坚持要立刻见你，我们得决定该怎么做。” "us?" “你听好了……这则报道原本预定在六月号刊登，我把它延迟了，最早也会等到八月，但如果你需要多一点时间，也还可以再延。” “我了解了。”她声音中带着一丝苦涩。 “我建议暂时先不要作任何决定，把资料带回家去看，好好想一想。在我们达成策略共识前，什么都不要做。还有时间。” “策略共识？” “要么你得在我们刊登前辞去《千禧年》的董事职位，否则就得向《瑞典摩根邮报》辞职。你不能鱼与熊掌兼得。” She nodded. “我和《千禧年》的关系太密切，不管有没有辞职，谁也不会相信我没有插手。” “还有一个选择。你可以把报道带到《瑞典摩根邮报》和博舍对质，要求他辞职。我很确定柯特兹会同意。不过在所有人都同意之前，什么都不要做。” “结果我一开始就把挖我的人给轰走了。” "Sorry." “他不是个坏人。” “我相信你。但他是个贪心的人。” 爱莉卡站起来。“我要回家了。” “小莉，我……” 她打断他的话头。“我只是累坏了。谢谢你的警告，我再跟你联络。” 她没有亲吻他便离去，留下他付账单。 爱莉卡停车的地方离餐厅约两百米，走到一半，她忽然心悸得厉害，不得不停下来靠在墙边，只觉得想吐。 她站了好久，呼吸着五月的清新凉风。自从五月一日起，她每天工作十五个小时，至今将近三星期了。三年后她会有什么感觉？莫兰德猝死在编辑室时就是这种感觉吗？ 十分钟后她回到萨米尔之锅，朝着正要走出大门的布隆维斯特奔去。他吃惊地定在原地。 “爱莉卡……” “麦可，什么话都不要说。我们已经是那么久的朋友，没有任何事能破坏得了。你是我最好的朋友，现在的情形就跟两年前你躲到赫德史塔的时候一模一样，只不过角色对调罢了。我觉得压力好大，好不快乐。” 他伸出手臂搂着她。她泪水已在眼眶打转。 “在《瑞典摩根邮报》三个星期已经让我精疲力竭。”她说。 “算了吧，爱莉卡·贝叶可没这么容易被打倒。” “你的住所不安全，我又累到没法开车回家，我会开到一半睡着，然后撞车死掉。我决定了，我要走到斯堪的皇冠饭店订一个房间。跟我来吧。” “那里现在叫希尔顿。” “半斤八两。” 他们默默地走了一小段路。布隆维斯特一手揽着她的肩膀，爱莉卡觑他一眼，发现他也和自己一样疲倦。 他们直接走到柜台要了一间双人房，用爱莉卡的信用卡付款。进房间之后，两人脱衣、冲澡、上床。爱莉卡的肌肉痛得像是刚跑完斯德哥尔摩的年度马拉松竞赛。他们温存拥抱了一下，很快便都睡着了。 他们俩都没注意到大厅里那个看着他们步入电梯的男人。