Chapter 29 Chapter Twenty Nine

Salander saw her Palm T3 on the hall table, next to the car keys and shoulder bag she had lost when Lan Ting attacked her apartment on Lunda Road, and what was sent to her in Horns Some of the mail from the post office box on the road was opened and some were not.Michael Blomkvist. She walked slowly around the part of the apartment where the furniture was placed, and traces of him could be seen everywhere.He had slept in her bed, worked at her desk, used her printer, and had drafts and discarded notes of The Group in the wastebasket. He bought a liter of milk, bread, cheese, caviar, and an oversized box of Billy's thick-crust pizza, which he kept in the freezer.

On the kitchen table, she saw a small white envelope with her name written on it.It was a note from him, very short, his cell phone number, that's all. She knew it was her turn now.Blomkvist wouldn't contact her, he'd finished writing the story and handed her the keys to her apartment, and he wouldn't call her.If she wants something, she can call him.Damn pig-headed bastard. She made a pot of coffee, made four open-face sandwiches, and took a seat by the window to look out over the royal hunting grounds.She lit a cigarette, lost in thought. It's all over, but her life seems more closed than ever.

Miriam went to France.It was me who almost killed you.Originally, he couldn't help but tremble at the thought of seeing Miriam, but he still decided that the first thing after being released was to go to her.But she went to France. She suddenly owed a lot of people. Pangem.Armansky.Should go and thank them.Roberto.And the plague and the Trinity.Even the bloody cops, Boblanski and Maud, were clearly on her side.She doesn't like the feeling of being indebted to others, as if she has become a pawn on the chessboard that she cannot control. Damn little Detective Blomkvist.And maybe that damn Erika with the dimpled cheeks, the expensive clothes, the confidence.

But it's over, Annika said as she left the police station.Yes, the court hearing was over, for Annika, and for Blomkvist.He's got a book out, he's going to be on TV eventually, and he's probably going to win an award or something. But it wasn't over for Salander.The first day of the second half of her life had just begun. By four o'clock in the morning, she stopped thinking about it.She dropped the punk on the bedroom floor, took a shower in the bathroom, removed the heavy court make-up, and put on loose dark linen trousers, a white top and a light jacket.Then pack a change of underwear and a couple of tops for the night, and put on some light walking shoes.

She picked up her PDA, called a taxi, picked her up at Moserback Square, and headed straight to Arlanda Airport, arriving just a few minutes before six.She looked at the departure timetable and bought the ticket at the first place she saw.She used her own passport, her own name.Unexpectedly, no one at the ticket counter or the exit counter recognized her or responded to her name. She took an early flight to Malaga and landed in the scorching midday sun.She stood in the terminal for a while, not quite knowing what to do.Finally, look at the map and think about what you can do when you come to Spain.After a while, she made up her mind.She wasted no time researching bus routes or other modes of transportation.After buying a pair of sunglasses at the airport store, I walked outside to the taxi rank and climbed into the back seat of the first car.

"Gibraltar. I'll use my credit card." Three hours on the new road along the coast.The taxi dropped her off at the British passport control post, and she walked across the border to the Rock Hotel on the Europa Road, in the middle of the 425-meter-high monolithic slope.She asked the front desk if there was any room and they said there was a double room available, so she booked it for two weeks and handed over her credit card. She sat on the balcony after a shower, wrapped in a towel, looking out over the Strait of Gibraltar, where she could see freighters and a few yachts.Through the fog, only Morocco on the other side of the strait can be vaguely seen.It feels very peaceful.

After a while, she went into the room, lay down and fell asleep. Salander woke up at five o'clock the next morning, took a shower, drank coffee at the bar on the first floor of the hotel, and left the hotel at seven o'clock to buy mangoes and apples.She took a taxi to the top of the rock and walked towards the orangutans.Because the time is too early, there are very few tourists, and she is almost alone with the animals. She loves Gibraltar.This English town on the Mediterranean is ridiculously densely populated, and this is her third visit to the town's strange rocks.Gibraltar is a very different place.The colonial town remained isolated for decades, refusing to be incorporated into Spain.The Spaniards would of course protest against the land being taken. (But Salander thinks that as long as the Spaniards still occupy Ceuta on the Moroccan territory on the other side, they should shut up) This is an isolated but interesting place. A strange rock stands on the town, covering about two square kilometers of town area three-quarters of China, and an airport whose starting point and ending point are the sea.The colony is too small, every inch of land has been utilized, as long as it is expanded, it will be on the sea.Even passengers entering the city have to walk through the runway at the airport first.

Gibraltar has given a whole new meaning to the idea of ​​'close living spaces'. Salander watched as a huge male gorilla climbed up the rock face next to the trail.It glared at her.It was a North African Ape.She knew it was best not to pet an animal like that. "Hello, friend," she said, "I'm back." When she first came to Gibraltar, she hadn't even heard of the orangutans.At that time, I just wanted to climb to the top of the rock to see the scenery. Later, I followed a few tourists, only to find a group of orangutans crawling around flexibly on both sides of the path.

Walking on a small road, it feels amazing to be surrounded by more than 20 orangutans suddenly.She stared at them warily.Orangutans aren't dangerous or rough, but if annoyed or feel threatened, they're sure to bite you hard. She approached a caretaker, showed him her bag of fruit, and asked if he could feed the orangutan.He said it was okay. So she took out a mango and placed it on the wall a little away from the male orangutan. "Eat breakfast." After she finished speaking, she leaned against the wall and took a bite of an apple. The male glared at her, bared his teeth, and picked up the mango contentedly.

Five days later, at three or four o'clock in the afternoon, Salander fell off a stool at Harry's Bar, which was located in an alley on the main street, two streets away from the restaurant.She's been mostly drunk since leaving Orangutans on the Rocks, mostly with bar owner Harry O'Connor.Harry had never been to Ireland in his life, and the Irish accent was a faux pas.He looked at Salander worriedly. When she started ordering drinks a few days ago, he also asked to see her ID.Her name was Liz, he knew that, and he called her Lily.She would come in after lunch, sit on the bar stool at the end of the bar, with her back against the wall, and drink a decent amount of beer or whiskey.

When drinking beer, she doesn't care about the brand and type, she drinks whatever he pours.When it came to whiskey, she always chose Tramorelle, except once when she studied the bottles behind the bar and switched to Lagavulin.When the glass was brought to her, she sniffed it, stared at it for a moment, and took a sip.She put down the wine glass and stared at it for a long time, with an expression as if she felt that the contents of the glass were a deadly enemy. Finally she pushed the glass aside and asked Harry to pour her something less nasty.He poured another glass of Tramore dew, and she continued to drink.In the past four days, she drank nearly a whole bottle, and he didn't count the beer.Harry was surprised that a girl as small as her could drink so well, but he figured that if she wanted to drink, she'd drink somewhere else, if not with him. She drank slowly, didn't talk to other guests, didn't cause trouble, and the only thing she seemed to do besides drinking was play with a handheld computer that was occasionally connected to her mobile phone.A few times he tried to find a topic to chat with, but she responded sullenly, as if she didn't want to find a partner.Sometimes there are too many people in the bar, she will move to the outdoor seating outside, and sometimes she will eat at the Italian restaurant two doors away.After dinner, I will go back to Harry's Bar and order another glass of Tramore.She would usually leave the bar at ten o'clock, staggering away, heading north each time. She was drinking more and faster than usual today, and Harry had been keeping an eye on her.Seeing that she had finished seven glasses of Tramore dew in a little over two hours, he decided not to pour her any more, when she was heard slamming down on the high stool. He put down the cup he was wiping, walked around the counter and helped her up.She seemed angry. "I think you've had enough, Lily," he said. She looked at him, eyes dim. "I think you're right," she said in a strangely sober voice. Holding the bar with one hand, she took out a few banknotes from her jacket pocket with the other, and then staggered towards the door.Harry put his arm lightly on her shoulder. "Wait a minute. Why don't you go to the toilet and spit out the last bit of whiskey and sit at the bar for a while? I don't want you to go the way you are." She didn't object, and obediently followed him to the toilet.She stuck her fingers down her throat.When she got back to the bar, Harry poured out a large glass of soda, which she drank and hiccupped.He pours another glass. "You're going to die of pain tomorrow morning," said Harry. She nodded. "It's none of my business, but if it were me, I'd keep myself awake for a few days." She nodded, then walked back to the bathroom to throw up. She stayed in the bar for another hour, and Harry didn't let her go until she looked sober enough.She waddled out of the bar, headed for the airport, and then circled the coastline to the yacht port.She walked until after eight o'clock, and did not go back to the hotel until the ground under her feet stopped shaking.Take the elevator back to the room, brush your teeth, wash your face and change your clothes, then go downstairs to the hotel bar and order a cup of black coffee and a bottle of mineral water. She sat in a hidden corner by a pillar, quietly observing the people in the bar.A man and woman in their thirties were talking softly. The woman was wearing a light-colored summer dress, and the man held her hand under the table.Two tables away is a black family. The man's temples have begun to turn gray, and the woman is wearing a beautiful yellow, black and red dress, with two young children.She continued to observe a group of business people, in white shirts and ties, with coats draped over the backs of chairs, drinking beer.She also saw a group of older people, no doubt American tourists, the men were all wearing baseball caps, polo shirts and slacks.She watched as a man in a light linen jacket, gray shirt and dark tie came in from the street, went to the counter to get the room key, and then went into the bar to order a beer. He was about three meters away from her.He took out his mobile phone and started calling in German, and she watched with a wait-and-see look. "Hi, is that you?...Is everything ok?...It's going well, next meeting tomorrow afternoon...No, I think it should be sorted out...I'll be here at least five or six days before going to Madrid ...No, I won't go back until next weekend...I love you too...of course...I'll call you in two days...kiss." He was about 185 centimeters taller, about fifty years old, maybe fifty-five years old, slightly longer blond hair turning gray, short chin, and a fat figure, but maintained it well.He is reading the Financial Times.When he finished his beer and walked to the elevator, Salander also got up and followed. He pressed the sixth floor.Salander stood beside him, her head resting on the side of the elevator. "I'm drunk," she said. He bowed his head and smiled and said, "Really?" "I've been drinking for a whole week. I guess you're a businessman, from Hannover or somewhere else in northern Germany. Married, loving wife, and going to be in Gibraltar for a few days. You just called at the bar I heard the call." The man looked at her in amazement. "I'm from Sweden and have a strong sex drive right now. I don't care if you're married or your phone number." He's a little spooked. "I live in Room 711, which is above yours. I'm going back to my room to take a shower and go to bed. If you want to accompany me, come and knock on my door within half an hour, or I'll fall asleep." "Are you kidding me?" he asked when the elevator stopped. "No. I'm just too lazy to go to the bar to catch men. It's up to you whether you want to knock on my door." Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on Salander's door.She wrapped herself in a towel and went to open the door. "Come in," she said. He looked around suspiciously after entering the room. "It's just me," she said. "How old are you?" She picked up the passport on the top shelf of the chest of drawers and handed it to him. "Looks younger." "I know." She said as she removed the towel and threw it on the chair, then went to the bed and pulled off the coverlet. She turned to see him staring at her tattoo. "It's not a trap. I'm a single woman and I'll be here for a few days. I haven't had sex in months." "Why did you choose me?" "Because you're the only guy in the bar who doesn't look like he's accompanied." "I am married……" "I don't want to know who your wife is, or even who you are, and I don't want to talk about sociology. I want to fuck. Undress, or go back to your room." "that's it?" "Yeah, why not? You're a grown man and you know what you're supposed to do." He thought for a full thirty seconds, looking as if he was about to leave.She sat on the edge of the bed and waited.He bit his lip, then took off his pants and shirt, and stood there in his boxers, hesitating. "Take it off," Salander said. "I don't want to sleep with someone in their underwear, and you have to use a condom. I know what I did, but I don't know what you did." He took off his shorts and walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.Salander closed her eyes as he leaned in for the kiss.He has good taste.She let him push herself down on the bed, pressing heavily on her upper body. Solicitor Jeremy McMillan was about to open the door of his office in Buchanan Wharf, Queen's Road Wharf above the marina, with the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.The door lock has been opened.As soon as he opened the door, he smelled tobacco and heard the creaking of chairs.It was less than seven o'clock at this time, and his first thought was that he ran into a thief who broke through the empty door. Then he smelled coffee coming from the kitchenette.A few seconds later, he hesitantly crossed the threshold, walked down the hallway, and looked into the spacious and elegantly decorated office. Salander was sitting on his office chair with her back turned to him, her feet on the window sill.His PC was on, and she had apparently had no trouble cracking his password, and had no trouble opening his safe, for she had on her lap the binder containing his most private letters and ledgers. "Morning, Miss Salander." He finally spoke. "Ah, here you are," she said. "There's freshly brewed coffee and croissants in the kitchen." "Thank you." After he finished speaking, he sighed resignedly. After all, this office was bought with her money and according to her orders, but she did not expect her to show up without warning.And she'd found a gay pornography he'd stashed in a desk drawer and apparently read through it. How embarrassing. Or maybe it's okay. As for Salander, he thought he had never met a more critical person, but she never showed a sneer at the weaknesses of others.She knows that he is heterosexual on the surface, but in fact he likes men secretly; since the divorce fifteen years ago, he has begun to realize his most private fantasies. But strangely enough, I felt safe with her. Now that they were all in Gibraltar, Salander decided to visit Macmillan who handled her finances.She hasn't been in touch with him since just after the new year, and she wonders if he has been busy making her bankrupt during this time. But don't worry, it's not because of him that she's going straight to Gibraltar as soon as she's released.This was done because of her fervent desire to get away from it all, and Gibraltar was the perfect choice.She spent almost a week drunk and spent the next few days sleeping with the German businessman who later said his name was Dieter, but she suspected that was not his real name and didn't bother to check.He had meetings during the day and dined with her in the evening before going back to his or her room. He's not bad in bed, Salander thought, just a little untrained and sometimes unnecessarily rude. Dieter seemed genuinely surprised that she would pick on a fat German businessman on the spur of the moment, and he had no intention of doing so in the first place.He is indeed married, and has no habit of cheating or eating wild food while on business trips.But the opportunity presented itself, and it was a skinny tattooed girl, and he couldn't resist the temptation, or so he said. Salander didn't care much about what he said, she just wanted to relax and enjoy sex anyway, but she was grateful that he did try to satisfy her.On the fourth night, their last night together, he suddenly panicked and began to worry about what his wife would think.Salander thought he should keep his mouth shut and say nothing to his wife. But she didn't tell him what she thought. He was already an adult, so he could refuse her invitation back then.Now whether he feels guilty or confesses to his wife is not her problem.Lying with her back to him, she listened to his nagging for fifteen minutes, and finally rolled her eyes in anger, turned around and straddled him. "Can you stop worrying about what's there and what's not, and give me another orgasm?" she said. Macmillan is another matter entirely.He has no sexual attraction to her, he's a liar.Interestingly, he looked a lot like Dieter: forty-eight, a bit fat, with dark blond curls that were turning gray.He combed his hair back all over, exposing a high forehead, and wore thin gold-rimmed glasses. He had graduated from Cambridge, worked as a commercial lawyer and securities broker in London, and was a promising partner in a law firm whose main clients were large corporations and wealthy yuppies interested in estate and tax planning.In the lively 1980s, he often associated with upstarts and celebrities. He not only drank heavily, but also took cocaine with some people, but he didn't want to see these people lying next to him when he woke up the next day.He was never sentenced, but he lost his wife, child, and job after screwing up several cases and showing up drunk at a mediation hearing. He didn't think much of it when he sobered up, and fled London with his tail between his legs.He didn't know why he chose Gibraltar, but in 1991, he partnered with a local solicitor and opened a small firm engaged in underground business, superficially dealing with inconspicuous matters such as real estate planning and wills In private, Macmillan & Marks also helped to set up post office box companies and acted as gatekeepers for dubious figures in Europe.Until Salander put the two billion kronor she stole from the failing empire of the Swedish financier Wennerström under Macmillan's management, their firm was barely breaking even. Macmillan was a liar, no doubt about it, but she regarded him as her own, and he himself was surprised at how honest he was in her affairs.She hired him for a simple job at first.For a pittance he set up several PO Box companies for her use, and she put a million dollars in each.She had contacted him by phone, but it was always just a distant voice.He never tried to find out the source of the money, he just did as she asked, and then took a 5% commission.After a while, she transferred a large sum of money to him to start Wasp Enterprises, and then to buy a luxury house in Stockholm.The deal with Salander, while still a small extra, was increasingly profitable. Two months later, she came to Gibraltar and called to invite him to dine in a room at the Rock Hotel, certainly the most famous, if not the largest, restaurant in Gibraltar.He didn't really know what to expect, but he couldn't believe that the client was this doll-like girl who seemed to be in her teens.He thought to himself that it was probably played as an object of prank. He quickly changed his mind.This strange girl spoke to him without emotion, never smiled or showed any enthusiasm, not even coldness.In just a few minutes, she had completely wiped out the image of professional decency he had been carefully maintaining, and he sat there unable to move. "What do you want?" he asked. "I stole some money." She replied very seriously. "I need to find a liar to deal with." He stared at her, secretly suspecting that the girl was abnormal, but still pretended to cooperate.Maybe a trick could be set up to get something out of her.Then when she explained who the money was from, how it was stolen, and how much, he was like a thunderbolt.The Wennerstrom incident is the hottest topic in the global international financial circle. "I see." Many possibilities flashed through his mind. "You're a brilliant business lawyer and stockbroker. If you were dumb, you wouldn't get the job you did in the 80s. But you got yourself fired for acting dumb." He flinched. "I'll be your only client in the future." She looked at him with an expression of innocence he had never seen before. "I have two conditions. One, you must never commit a crime or get involved in something that could cause us trouble, and cause the authorities to notice my company and account. Two, never lie to me, absolutely, once No, for whatever reason. If you lie, our business relationship will be terminated immediately, and if you offend me, I will destroy you." She poured him a glass of wine. "You have no reason to lie to me, because I know everything worth knowing in your life. I know how much you earn in a month during the peak season and how much you earn in a month during the off season. I know how much you spend. I know that your money has always been Not enough to spend. I know you owe a total of £120,000 in long and short term debts, and always risk stealing a little money to pay the loan. You wear expensive clothes and try to maintain a facade, but you are really down and out, and haven't seen it for months. Buying a new sports jacket. I used to mend the lining of my old jacket two weeks ago. You used to collect rare books, but you have started to sell them slowly. You only sold a copy for 760 pounds last month. An early publication of "Orphan Tears." She didn't make a sound, just looked at him intently.He swallowed dryly. "Actually you made a lot of money last week. You did a great job defrauding the widow who entrusted you. You stole six thousand pounds from her and she may never find out." "How do you know this?" "I know you were married, had two kids in the UK and didn't want to see you, and life has changed drastically since the divorce, now mostly gay relationships. You probably feel ashamed, so avoid gay clubs and try not to be with men Friends show up in town. You often go across the border to Spain to meet men." Macmillan was shocked to the extreme, and suddenly felt terrified.Not sure how she got this information, but it was enough to destroy him. "I only say this once. Who you have sex with is your business, not mine. I want to know who you are, but I will never use what I know to threaten or blackmail you." Macmillan is no fool.Of course he was very aware that she was a threat to everything he knew, and she was in control.For a moment he wanted to pick her up and throw her off the terrace, but he refrained from it.He had never been so scared in his life. "What do you want?" he asked forcefully. "I'm going to partner with you. You close all the other businesses you're doing right now and work just for me. My firm will make you more money than you ever dreamed possible." She explained what she wanted him to do and how she wanted him to arrange it. "I'm going to hide behind the scenes," she said. "You will manage everything for me. Everything must be legal. My own money will not have anything to do with our common cause." "I understand." "You have a week to settle other clients and stop all the petty tricks." He also understood that this proposal was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so he agreed after sixty seconds of consideration.He has only one problem. "How do you know I won't cheat you?" "Don't even think about it, or you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life." He has no reason to cheat.Salander's conditions might get him out of trouble, and it would be foolish to take risks just for a small profit.As long as he is careful enough not to make mistakes in the accounts, the future is guaranteed. Therefore, he never thought of cheating on Miss Salander. Honestly, or should I say with the honesty of a dead-end lawyer, he managed an astronomical sum of money. Salander had no interest in financial management.It was McMillan's job to invest for her and always have enough money to pay her credit cards.She'd tell him what to do with the money, and he'd just have to do it. Most of the money is invested in high-quality funds, which will allow her to be financially independent even if she spends a lot of money for the rest of her life.Her credit card charges were paid from these funds. He can use and invest the rest of the money freely, as long as he doesn't get involved in anything that might provoke the police.She forbids him from committing some stupid petty crime or setting up some cheap deception, or he may be investigated if he is unlucky, and she will also be questioned. In the end there was only one thing left to discuss, and that was his compensation. "I will pay you half a million pounds in advance, and you can use this money to pay off your debts, and there will be plenty left over. Then you will have to earn your own money. You will start a company in our name, and the company will make money for you. Take twenty percent. I want you to be rich enough not to be mean, but not too rich to be lazy." He started his new job on February 1 of the previous year, and by the end of March, he had paid off all his debts, and his personal financial situation had stabilized.Salander insisted that he take care of his own affairs first and settle all debts.In May, he broke up with his alcoholic colleague, George Marks, and while he felt a little sorry for his former partner, it was out of the question to involve him in Salander's business. He had spoken to Salander about it in early July.At that time, she returned to Gibraltar without warning and found that Macmillan's office was at her residence instead of her original office. "My partner is an alcoholic, can't handle these things, and can be a huge risk factor. But he got me a partner fifteen years ago and saved my life." She gazed into Macmillan's face and thought for a moment. "I see, you are a loyal liar, and that may be a commendable merit. I suggest you open a small account for him to play with, and by the way, make sure he gets a few thousand crowns a month to live on. .” "Are you okay?" She nodded and looked around his bachelor apartment.He lives in an apartment in an alley near the hospital, with a small kitchen attached.The only redeeming feature of this place is the view.But having said that, such scenery can be seen everywhere in Gibraltar. "You need an office and better housing," she said. "I don't have time," he said. So she went out to find an office for him, and finally chose a place of 130 square meters in the Buchanan Pavilion on Queen's Road Wharf, with a small balcony facing the sea. This must be a high-end location in Gibraltar.She also hired an interior designer for the renovation. Macmillan remembered that while he was busy with paperwork, Salander personally oversaw the installation of the alarms, computer equipment, and safe that she had searched when he entered the office this morning. "Am I in trouble?" he asked. She put down the letter binder she was browsing. "No, Macmillan, you're not in trouble." "That's good," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You always show up when you least expect it." "I've been very busy lately. I just want to know how things are going." "As far as I know, you are suspected of killing three people, shot in the head and charged with various crimes. I was worried for a while and thought you were in prison. You didn't escape from prison, did you?" "No, I was acquitted. How much have you heard?" He hesitated. "Well, as soon as I heard you were in trouble, I hired a translation agency to scour the Swedish media and keep me updated regularly. I know all the details." "If you get all your news from the papers, you don't know anything. But I dare say you've discovered some of my secrets." He nodded. "What's next?" he asked. She gave him a surprised look. "Nothing, it's the same as before. My problems in Sweden have had no effect on our relationship. Tell me what happened while I was away. Are you okay?" "I didn't drink, if that's what you're asking." "No. Your private life is none of my business as long as it doesn't jeopardize our career. Am I richer or poorer than I was a year ago?" He pulled up a visitor chair and sat down.In fact, he didn't mind her sitting in his chair. "You remitted 2.4 billion to me, and we will use 200 million to invest in funds for you. I will handle the rest at my discretion." "so what?" "Your personal fund only pays more interest. I can let you increase your income, as long as..." "I'm not interested in increasing earnings." "Well, the money you spend is negligible. The main expenses are the apartment I bought for you and the foundation you set up for that attorney Panglan. The rest of the expenses are normal. The interest rate is not bad, so it's almost even." "it is good." "I used the rest to invest. I didn't make much profit last year, and I was a little rusty, so I took the time to reacquaint myself with the market. Some time ago, I only had expenses, and I didn't start to have income until this year. From the beginning of this year, I made about 7 million , I mean dollars." "You get twenty percent of it." "I'll take twenty percent of it." "Are you satisfied?" "I made over a million dollars in six months. Yes, I'm satisfied." "You know... people shouldn't be too greedy. You can work less hours when you're satisfied, just take a few hours now and then to keep an eye on my business." "One hundred million dollars," he said. "what?" "When I make 100 million dollars, I'll close the mountain. It's a good thing to have you in my life. I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about." "Say it." He raised his hands up high. "The amount of money really scares me to death. I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what purpose the company has other than to make money. What is the money going to be used for?" "I have no idea." "Me too. But making money can also become an end in itself, which is crazy, so I decided once I made 100 million for myself to stop, I don't want to take any responsibility." "OK." "But before I'm done, I want you to decide how you want to manage this money in the future. There's always got to be a purpose, a policy, and some kind of organization that can take over." "Ok." "This way of doing business is simply not feasible now. I have already allocated a part of the amount for fixed long-term investment, real estate, securities, etc. There is a complete list on the computer." "I've seen it." "I took the other half to speculate, but it was too big and hard to track, so I set up an investment company in Jersey. At the moment you have six employees in London. Two are young and excellent brokers, and There are a few office workers." "Yellow Ballroom Co., Ltd.? I'm still wondering what that could be!" "It's our firm. Here in Gibraltar I've hired a secretary and a promising young lawyer. By the way, they'll be here in half an hour." "I know. Molly Flint, forty-one, and Brian Delaney, twenty-six." "Do you want to see them?" "No. Is Brian your lover?" "What? No." He seemed shocked. "I don't know whether it's public or private..." "it is good." "By the way, I'm not interested in young lads... I mean inexperienced ones." "Yeah... a mature man is more attractive to you than a brat, and that's none of my business, but Macmillan..." "what?" "Be careful." Originally, Salander didn't plan to stay in Gibraltar for more than two weeks. She thought that two weeks would be enough to clear her situation, but she suddenly found that she didn't know what to do or where to go, so she stayed for three months. .She would receive a letter every day, and the rare times when Annika contacted her by letter, she would reply immediately, but she didn't tell her where she was.As for other emails, she never responded. She still goes to Harry's, but now only for a beer or two in the evening.Spend most of the day in the hotel, either on the balcony or in bed.Had an affair with a thirty-year-old Royal Navy officer, but it was purely a one-night stand and very uninteresting. She is bored. One day in early October she was having dinner with Macmillan.During her stay, they met only a few times.It was dark now, and they drank a fruity liquor and discussed the uses of her billions.In the middle of speaking, he unexpectedly asked her what was bothering her. She looked at him for a long time, thinking secretly.Then he also unexpectedly revealed his relationship with Miriam, and how Miriam was almost beaten to death.And it was all her fault, Liz.Salander hadn't heard from Miriam except for a greeting from Anika.现在她人去了法国。 麦米伦默默地听着。 “你爱她吗？”他最后问道。 莎兰德摇摇头。 “不，我想我不是那种会爱人的人。她是我的朋友，而且我们发生过关系。” “没有人能不爱人。”他说：“他们也许想否认，但友谊很可能是最常见的一种爱。” 她惊讶地看着他。 “如果我说些你私人的事，你不会生气吧？” "Won't." “拜托你，去巴黎吧。”他说。 她在下午两点半降落在戴高乐机场，搭上机场巴士前往凯旋门，在附近一带闲晃了两个小时，想找下榻的饭店。她朝着塞纳河往南走，最后在哥白尼街找到一家小旅馆叫“维克多·雨果”。 她冲澡之后打电话给米莉安。当天晚上两人在圣母院附近一家酒吧碰面，米莉安穿了一件白衬衫外搭夹克，看起来美极了，莎兰德顿时感到羞怯。她们互相亲吻脸颊。 “对不起，没打电话给你，你开庭的时候我也没去。”米莉安说。 “没关系，反正庭讯也是禁止旁听。” “我在医院待了三个星期，后来回到伦达路以后整个一团乱，晚上都睡不着，一直作噩梦梦见那个王八蛋尼德曼。我打电话给我母亲，跟她说我想来巴黎。” 莎兰德说她明白。 “请你原谅我。”米莉安说。 “别傻了，我才是来这里请求你原谅我的。” "why?" “我当时没想仔细。我万万没想到把旧公寓让给你住，会让你面临那么大的危险。你差点遇害都是我的错，你恨我也是应该的。” 米莉安似乎不敢置信。“莉丝，我从来没这样想。企图杀我的人是尼德曼，不是你。” 她们沉默对坐片刻。 “好吧。”莎兰德终于开口。 “对。”米莉安应道。 “我追你追到这里来不是因为我爱你。”莎兰德说。 米莉安点点头。 “我们做爱的感觉很棒，但我并不爱你。” “莉丝，我想……” “我只是想说我希望你……哎呀！” "what?" “我没有太多朋友……” 米莉安又点头。“我会在巴黎待一阵子。在瑞典念书念得乱七八糟，所以转到这儿的大学注册，应该至少会待一学年。之后我也不知道，不过我终究会回斯德哥尔摩。我现在还在付伦达路的管理费，那间公寓我打算留下，如果你没意见的话。” “那是你的公寓，你想怎么样就怎么样。” “莉丝，你是个非常特别的人。”米莉安说：“我还是想当你的朋友。” 她们聊了两个小时。莎兰德没有理由向米莉安隐瞒自己的过去，凡是能看到瑞典报纸的人都知道札拉千科的事，而且米莉安还兴致勃勃地密切留意相关报道。她也向莎兰德详细叙述那天晚上罗贝多在尼克瓦恩救她一命的经过。 接着她们一起回到米莉安在大学附近的学生宿舍。