Chapter 9 chapter eight

Armansky heard someone tap on the door frame, looked up, and saw Salander standing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee brewed by the coffee machine.He put down his pen and pushed away the report. "Hi," she said. "Hi." "This is a courtesy call. May I come in?" Armansky closed his eyes for a moment, then pointed to the visitor's chair.He glanced at the clock, it was half past six in the evening.Salander handed him a cup of coffee and sat down.They looked at each other for a long time. "Over a year," Armansky said. Salander nodded. "are you mad?"

"Should I be angry?" "I didn't say goodbye." Armansky pouted.He was shocked, but at the same time relieved, at least Salander was not dead.He suddenly felt a strong sense of anger and powerlessness. "I don't know what to say," he said. "You're under no obligation to tell me what you're doing. What's the matter?" His voice was colder than he expected. "I don't know either. Mainly just to say hello." "Do you need a job? I won't be hiring you again." She shook her head. "You work elsewhere?"

She shook her head again, as if she wanted to say something.Armansky waited. "I've been traveling," she finally said. "Just came back recently." Armansky looked at her.She had changed, whether it was her dress or her demeanor, there was a new... maturity.And there's something stuffed in the bra. "You've changed. Where have you been?" "Running around..." she said, but seeing his exasperation, she added, "I went to Italy, then I went on to the Middle East, from Bangkok to Hong Kong. I stayed in Australia and New Zealand. After a while, I ran around the Pacific islands. After living in Tahiti for a month, I traveled around the United States and spent the last few months in the Caribbean. I don’t know why I didn’t tell and don't."

"I'll tell you why: because you don't care about other people's life or death." Armansky said very practically. Salander bit her lower lip. "Usually others don't care about my life." "Bullshit!" Armansky said. "You have a problem with your attitude. When someone wants to be your friend, you treat them like shit. It's as simple as that." There was a moment of silence. "Do you want me to leave?" "As you please. You always have. But if you leave now, never let me see you again." Salander suddenly became frightened.A man she respects is about to dump her, and she doesn't know what to say.

"Panglan has had a stroke for two years, and you haven't seen him once," Armansky continued relentlessly. Salander stared at Armansky in disbelief. "Panglan is still alive?" "You don't even know if he's dead or alive." "The doctor said he..." "The doctor talks a lot," Armansky interrupted. "He's in a very bad condition and can't communicate with anyone, but he has recovered a lot in the last year. He can't speak very clearly. You have to listen carefully to understand what he is saying. He needs help with many things, but he can go to the toilet by himself. I care about him People will go to see him and stay with him.”

Salander sat dumbfounded.She was the one who discovered that Pangeran had suffered a stroke two years ago.She called an ambulance, and the doctors shook their heads and said the diagnosis was not promising.She stayed in the hospital for a week until a doctor told her that Panglan was in a coma with little chance of waking up.She then got up and left the hospital without looking back, and apparently did not inquire about the follow-up situation afterwards.She frowned.At the same time she was forced to accept Bierman, and spent a lot of energy on him.But no one, including Armansky, told her that Panglan was alive or better.The possibility never occurred to her.

Tears filled her eyes.In her life, she had never felt so deeply that she was a selfish rotten person, nor had she been so angry and blamed herself.She couldn't help but bow her head. They sat together without saying a word, and finally Armansky spoke first, "Are you all right?" Salander shrugged. "How do you make ends meet? Do you have a job?" "No, I don't know what I want to do, but I have some money, so I can get by." Armansky eyed her suspiciously. "I just came to say hello... not looking for a job. I don't know... If you need me someday, maybe I can help, but only if I'm interested."

"Perhaps you don't want to tell me what happened in Hedstad last year, do you?" Salander didn't answer. "Something must have happened. After you came back here to borrow the surveillance equipment, Martin Van Yell drove his car into a truck and someone threatened you. His sister came back from the dead. It was a blast, to put it mildly. " "I promised not to tell." "You don't want to tell me about your role in the Wennerstrom incident, either?" "I'm helping little detective Blomkvist investigate." Her voice suddenly became much calmer.

"That's all. I don't want to get involved." "Blomkvist is looking for you everywhere, and calls me every month to ask if I have heard from you." Salander was silent, but Armansky noticed that her lips were drawn into a straight line. "I don't like him," Armansky said, "but he cares about you anyway. I met him last fall, and he doesn't want to talk about Hedstar." Salander didn't want to talk about Bron anymore. West. "I just came to say hello and to let you know I'm back. I don't know if I'll stay. Here's my phone and my new e-mail if you need to reach me."

She handed Armansky a piece of paper and stood up.When he got to the door, he called to her. "Wait a minute. What are you going to do?" "I'm going to see Pangem." "Fine, but I mean... what are you going to do for work?" "have no idea." "You have to make money, right?" "I told you, I can get by." Armansky reclined in his chair.He never knew how to read her words. "I'm so mad at you for leaving without saying goodbye, I almost made up my mind never to trust you again." He grimaced. "You're unreliable, but you're a really good investigator. I might have a job for you next."

She shook her head, but walked back to his table. "I don't want to ask you for a job. I mean I don't need a job, really. I'm financially independent now." Armansky frowned and said: "Okay, you're financially independent, God knows what that means, and I trust you anyway. But if you need a job..." "Armansky, you're the second person I've looked for since I got back. I don't need your job. But you've been one of the few people I respect over the years." "Everyone has to earn a living." "Sorry, but I'm no longer interested in private investigations. Let me know if you come across a really interesting question." "What kind of question?" "The kind where you can't figure out what's going on. If you can't figure it out, or don't know what to do. If you want me to work for you, you'll have to think of something special. Maybe action-wise." "In terms of action? You? But you may disappear without a trace at any time." "Once I promise to do something, I never run away." Armansky looked at her helplessly.The so-called "operation" is their term, that is, on-site operations, which include a wide range of tasks, which may be bodyguards or monitoring tasks for art exhibitions.His operatives are confident, dependable veterans, most of them with police backgrounds and 90 percent male.Salander, and everything he had set for Milton Security's operations team, was the exact opposite. "Well..." Armansky was still hesitating, but she had disappeared outside the door.He shook his head.What a weirdo.It's weird. In less than a second, Salander returned to the door. "By the way... you sent two men to protect that actress Christine Rutherford for a month because a lunatic wrote her a threatening letter. You think it was done by an acquaintance, because the person who wrote the letter knew a lot Little things about her." Armansky stared at Salander, as if his whole body was electrocuted.Here she is again.A case that she could never know about, but she threw out relevant information. "so what?" "That's fake. The letter was written by her and her boyfriend as a publicity ploy. She'll get another letter in a few days and leak it to the press next week. They'll probably charge Milton with the leak. Now Just drop her case." Before Armansky could speak, she was gone, and he could only stare blankly at the empty doorway.It is impossible for her to know any details of this case. Milton must have her eyeliner inside.But apart from himself, only four or five people knew about it—the operations leader and the very few people who reported the intimidation case...and they were all reliable professionals.Armansky touched his chin. He looked down at the table.Rutherford's case file was locked inside, and there was an alarm in the office.He glanced at the clock again, thinking that Harry Franson, the head of the technical department, should have left work.So he opened his e-mail and sent an email to Franz asking him to come to his office the next morning to install the monitor. Salander went straight to Moselback's home.She is in a hurry because it feels urgent.She called Thord's hospital, and after several transfers, she finally found out about Panglan's whereabouts.For the past 14 months, he has been living in a rehabilitation center in Ursta.She suddenly thought of Up Bay.She called and the hospital said he was sleeping but she was welcome to visit him the next day. Salander walked up and down the living room all evening, in a very bad mood.She went to bed early and fell asleep almost immediately.Get up at seven in the morning, take a shower, and have breakfast at 7-11.At eight o'clock, walk to the car rental center on Huancheng Avenue.I have to get a car of my own.She rented the same Nissan she had driven to Up Bay a few weeks earlier. When she parked near the recovery home, she felt unspeakably nervous, but still found the courage to walk in and make it to the service counter. After looking at her ID, the waitress at the counter explained that Panglan was undergoing treatment in the gym and would not be free until after eleven o'clock, and asked Salander to sit in the waiting room or come back later.She went back and sat in the car, smoking a cigarette while waiting.At eleven o'clock, she returned to the counter, and the waiter asked her to go to the restaurant, go straight down the hallway on the right, and turn left.She stopped at the door and recognized Pangem from the half-filled dining room.He was facing her, but was concentrating on the plate.He held the fork in an odd position, intent on getting the food to his mouth.About once in every three misses, the food falls off the fork.He seemed to have shrunk, maybe a hundred years older, and his face seemed to be immobile, which looked strange.He is in a wheelchair.It was only at this moment that Salander really realized that he was still alive, and that Armansky had not lied. Pangren cursed secretly as he tried to fork a mouthful of mac and cheese for the third time.He couldn't do anything about being unable to walk normally, and he admitted that he couldn't do what he wanted in many things.But he really hates that he can't eat normally and sometimes drools like a baby.He knows exactly what to do: lower the fork at the right angle, push it forward, lift it up, and put it in his mouth.The problem is coordination.His hands have a soul of their own.When he instructs it to lift, it slides slowly next to the plate.Even when he managed to bring it to his mouth, it often changed direction at the last moment and landed on his cheek or chin.However, the effect of recovery is still gradually showing.Six months ago, my hands were shaking so badly that I couldn't even put a tablespoon in my mouth.Meals may still be time-consuming now, but at least he can eat by himself, and he will continue to work hard until he can control his limbs as he wants again.When he put down the fork and was about to take another bite, he suddenly stretched out a hand from behind and gently took the fork away.He watched the fork pick up some macaroni, held it up high, and thought that this thin doll-like hand looked familiar, and turned his head to meet Salander's eyes.Her eyes were expectant and seemed anxious. Panglan stared at her face for a long time, his heart beat wildly, and then he opened his mouth to eat the food. She feeds him mouthfuls.Normally Pangren hated being fed, but he understood Salander's needs.She fed him not because he was a helpless burden, but in a gesture of humility—an extremely rare occurrence for her.She forks up the proper portion and waits for him to finish chewing.He pointed to the glass of milk with a straw in it, and she picked it up to feed him.When he had swallowed his last bite, she put down her fork and gave him a questioning look.He shook his head.The whole meal was over, and they didn't exchange a word. Panglan leaned back on the wheelchair and took a deep breath.Salander picked up the napkin and wiped his mouth for him.He felt like a gangster boss in an American movie who was receiving compliments from all sides.He imagined how she would kiss his hand, and couldn't help laughing at his absurd fantasies. "Would you like to be able to get a cup of coffee here?" she asked. He answered in a lisp, unable to pronounce the words correctly with his lips and tongue. "Must rent...Jorubin." The service table is next to the corner.She figured it out. "Would you like a drink? Same as before, with milk and no sugar?" He gestured "Yes".She took his plate away and returned in a few minutes with two cups of coffee.He found her drinking black coffee, which was unusual, and he couldn't help smiling when he saw her put his milk straw in the coffee cup.Pangelan wanted to say a thousand words to her, but she couldn't pronounce a single syllable.But their eyes kept meeting again and again.Salander looked very guilty.Finally she broke the silence. "I thought you were dead," she said. "Had I known you were alive, I would never...I would have come to see you long ago. Please forgive me." He lowered his head, twisted his lips, and smiled lightly. "When I left, you were in a coma and the doctors told me you were going to die. They said you were going to die in a few days, so I left. I'm sorry." He raised his hand to her small fist.Instead, she squeezed his hand tightly. "Ez rented it." You're missing. "Amansky told you?" He nodded. "I went on a trip and I needed to get away. I didn't say goodbye to anyone and just left. Are you worried?" He shook his head slowly. "You don't need to worry about me at all." "I don't care what I think, so Ou didn't expect anything to happen. Amencien didn't care." I never worried about you, you have always been fine.But Armansky was worried. She showed her signature smile with her lips curled up again, and Pan Gelan was relieved.He carefully looked at the woman in front of him, comparing it with the one in his memory.She has changed.Neat, clean, well-groomed, lip piercing removed...well... the wasp tattoo on his neck is gone.Looks grown up.He laughed, for the first time in weeks, and it sounded like a cough.Salander also smiled, and her heart was filled with a warmth that she hadn't felt for a long time. "You rent the Dean coat." You did a good job.He compared her dress with one hand.She nodded. "I'm fine now." "Is the new robot man jacket?" Is the new guardian okay? Panglan noticed that Salander's face sank, she pursed her mouth, and looked directly at him. "He's okay...I can handle it." Panglan raised his eyebrows to express his inquiry.Salander looked around the restaurant and changed the subject. "how long have you been here?" Although Panglan had a stroke, he still had difficulty coordinating speech and movements, but his mind was very sound. His radar immediately detected that Salander's tone of voice was not right.Over the years he'd known her, he'd discovered that she'd never lied to him directly, but not entirely.The way she doesn't tell the truth is to divert his attention.Panglan wasn't surprised that there was clearly a problem between her and her new guardian. He regretted it deeply.How many times had he thought about calling Bierman—a colleague, if not a friend—to ask how Salander was doing, and then forgot?Why not challenge the court ruling that she is incapacitated while he still has authority?He knew why—it was because of his selfishness, and he wanted to keep in touch with her.He has no daughter, so he loves this stubborn child as a daughter, and hopes to have an excuse to maintain this relationship.Besides, it was simply too difficult.Now he struggles to stagger to the toilet and unzip his pants.He felt that he had broken his promise to Salander.But she's going to survive... she's the most capable person I've ever known. "Diwu." "I do not understand." "Diuvayi." "District Court? What do you mean?" "Qi Pin to... Xile... Ximo..." Panglan's face was flushed, and his whole face was tangled up because he couldn't make a sound.Salander put her hand on his arm and pressed lightly. "Panglan... don't worry about me. I have a plan, and I will be dealing with my disability declaration soon. This is not something you need to worry about, but I may still need your help. Can you? You can be me when necessary lawyer?" He shook his head. "Clothes." Old.He tapped his knuckles on the arm of the wheelchair. "Stupid jackets." Stupid old man. "Yeah, you'd be a dumb old man if you had that attitude. I need a legal counsel, and I want you to be. You might not be able to appear in court, but you can advise me when the time is right. Okay?" He shook his head again, before nodding. "Estimated rent?" "I don't understand." "Rent it now? Not Amensi?" What are you doing now?Not Armansky?Salander fell silent, thinking about how to explain her situation.Too complicated. "I don't work for Armansky anymore. I don't have to work for him to make money. I have my own money and live well." Pan Glan's brows were knit together again. "Starting today, I will visit you often. I will tell you everything...but don't be too nervous. Now I have other things to do." She bent over and lifted a bag to the table, and took out a chessboard from it. "I haven't had a chance to kill you for two whole years." He doesn't insist anymore.She didn't know what the hell she was up to, and she refused to talk about it.He is sure that he will have serious doubts about her affairs, but he also has enough confidence in her to know that what she wants to do may be on the edge of the law, but it is definitely not a crime against the laws of nature.Unlike most people who knew her, Panglan believed that Salander was a truly moral person.The problem is that her ethics don't necessarily align with the justice system. When she arranged the pieces for him, he was astonished to recognize that it was his own board.She must have gone into the apartment to steal it after he got sick.As a souvenir?She gave him white pieces.Suddenly he was as happy as a child. Salander stayed with Panglan for two hours and defeated him three times. Just as they were arguing over the chess match, a nurse interrupted him, saying that it was time for his afternoon physical therapy.Salander packed up the chess pieces and folded up the chessboard. "Can you tell me what kind of physical therapy he's doing?" she asked the nurse. "It's strength and coordination training. We're slowly improving, aren't we?" Panglan nodded sternly. "You can already walk a few steps. In summer, you can go for a walk in the park by yourself. Is this your daughter?" Salander and Panglan looked at each other. "Ang Yi." Adopted daughter. "It's nice of you to come and see him." Where have you been hiding all this time?Salander pretended to be puzzled by the obvious implication.She leaned over and kissed Paglan's cheek. "I'll be back on Friday." Panglan struggled to get up from the wheelchair.She accompanied him to the elevator, and when the elevator door closed, she immediately went to the counter to ask to see the attending doctor.The desk clerk directed her to see Dr. A. Sivanandan, whose office was down the hall.She introduced herself, saying she was Pangem's adopted daughter. "I want to know where he is now and what will happen in the future." Dr. Sivanandan opened Panglan's log book and read the first few pages.His skin was pimpled from smallpox and he had a thin goatee, which Salander found ridiculous.He finally looked up.To her surprise, he spoke with a Finnish accent. "In my records, Mr. Panglan has no daughter or adopted daughter. In fact, his closest relative seems to be an eighty-six-year-old cousin who lives in Jamtland." "He cared for me from the time I was thirteen until he had a stroke. I was twenty-four." She reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and took out a pen, throwing it on the table in front of the doctor. "My name is Liz Salander. Put my name in his record book. I'm the closest thing to him in the world." "Maybe," Dr. Sivanandan replied firmly, "but if you were the closest person to him, you took a long time to let us know. As far as I know, there is only one person who visits him occasionally. , although not related to him, but in case his condition deteriorates or passes away, we have to inform this person.” "It should be Dragan Armansky." Dr. Sivanandan raised his eyebrows. "Yes, you know him?" "You can call him and confirm my identity." "No, I trust you. I heard that you sat there and played chess with Mr. Panglan for two hours. But I cannot discuss his condition with you without his permission." "That old stubborn would never allow it. In fact, it is the delusion that makes him feel pain now. He thinks that his illness should not be a burden to me, and that he still has a responsibility to me. Here's the thing: For the past two years, I thought He is dead, and he was found alive yesterday. If I had known him... It's complicated, I just want to know his diagnosis and whether he will recover in the future." Dr. Sivanandan picked up a pen, neatly entered Salander's name into Pangem's record book, and asked for her social security number and phone number. "Okay, now you're officially his adopted daughter. Maybe it's not quite in line with the rules, but you're the first person to see him since Mr. Armansky came over last Christmas...and today you See, you should see he has coordination and speech issues. He's had a stroke before." "I know, I called the ambulance when I found out." "Well, then you should know that he spent three months in the intensive care unit. He was in a coma for a long time, and most patients who are in a coma for such a long time do not wake up, but he did wake up, obviously not ready to die. First he Placed in a chronically ill care unit where he was totally disabled, he thought there was no hope, but he showed signs of improvement and moved here nine months ago for rehabilitation." "What are the chances of him regaining his ability to move and speak?" Dr. Sivanandan spread his hands. "Do you have a more powerful crystal ball? To be honest, I don't know. He may die of a cerebral hemorrhage tonight, or he may live a normal life for another twenty years. I don't know. It can be said that it all depends on God's will." gone." "What if I can live another twenty years?" "His recovery has been tough, and it's only in the last few months that he's finally seen progress. Six months ago, he had to be assisted to eat. A month ago, he could barely get out of his chair, partly from lying down for too long. Muscle atrophy. Now I can walk a short distance by myself." "Can it be better?" "Yes, even a lot better. Crossing the first hurdle is the hardest, but now I can see progress every day. He has lost almost two years of his life, and it will be summer in a few months. Hope he can get there." Walk in the park." "What about talking?" "His problem is that his speech center and mobility are damaged. He has lost these abilities for a long time. He has been forced to learn how to control his body and speak again. He doesn't always remember which words to use, and some words even have to be relearned. Yes, but it’s not like a child babbling—he knows the meaning of the words, but he can’t pronounce them. Give him a few more months and you’ll see how much his speaking ability has improved from what it is today. The ability to act Same. Nine months ago, he couldn't tell left from right, and he couldn't tell up from up in an elevator." Salander pondered for a while, and found that she liked Dr. Sivanandan, who had an Indian face and a Finnish accent. "A, short for what?" she asked. He glanced at her with interest. "Anders." "Anders?" "I was born in Sri Lanka and was adopted by a couple living in Turku when I was three months old." "Well, Anders, how can I help?" "Come and see him, give him a mental boost." "I could come every day." "I don't want you to come every day. If he likes you, it's better for him to look forward to your visits than to be bored." "Is there any special care that will make him progress faster? I'm willing to pay any amount." He smiled at Salander. "Special care is probably the only thing we have here. I certainly wish there were a little more resources and that budget cuts don't affect us, but I assure you he's well taken care of here." "If you don't have to worry about budget cuts, what else can you offer him?" "The ideal for a patient like Panglan is to give him a 24/7 personal sports trainer. But there is no such resource in Sweden." "Hire one." "What did you say?" "Hire a personal trainer for him, find the best possible one. Please do this first thing tomorrow. Also in terms of technical equipment, make sure to meet all his needs. I will take care of getting you guys there by the end of the week. funds to pay for.” "Miss, are you teasing me?" Salander glanced at Dr. Sivanandan with her stern, determined eyes. ※※※ Mia hit the brakes and parked her Fiat on the curb outside the Old Town subway station.Dag opened the door, slid into the passenger seat, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.She drove away and followed a bus. "Hello," she said, still keeping her eyes on the other cars. "Why are you so serious, what happened?" Dag sighed and put on his seat belt. "It's nothing, it's just that there is something wrong with the manuscript." "what is the problem?" "The manuscript will be due in another month. We planned to question twenty-two subjects, and I only did nine. That secret policeman Björk is in trouble. The bastard is on long-term medical leave and doesn't answer the phone at home." "Is anyone in the hospital?" "I don't know. Have you ever asked the NSA for information? They wouldn't even admit he was theirs." "Where are his parents?" "They're all dead. He's not married. He has a brother who lives in Spain. I really don't know how to find him." Mia glanced at her mate beside her as she drove past Slussen into the tunnel leading to Nyneth Road. “The worst case scenario would be to drop Björk’s part. Everyone we’re going to expose has to have a chance to speak before it’s exposed, and Blomkvist insists on that.” "But it would be a pity to give up a representative of the secret police who was hanging out with whores. What are you going to do?" "Of course I found him. Are you okay? Are you nervous?" He poked carefully on one side of her body. "Not really. I have to defend my dissertation next month, and then I'll be a full-fledged Ph.D. I feel pretty cool." "You know the subject by heart. Why be nervous?" "Look behind you." Darger turned to see an open box in the backseat. "Mia—it's printed!" He happily picked up a bound paper. From Russia with love: Illegal trade, organized crime and social response Graduate Student: Mia Johnson "Didn't you say it's coming out next week? Really... I'll open a bottle of wine when I get home. Congratulations, Doctor!" He leaned forward and kissed her again. "Calm down, I won't be a doctor in three weeks. Also, keep your hands quiet while I'm driving." Dag laughed, then became serious again. "By the way, a spoiler... about a year ago you interviewed a girl named Irina P." "Irina P, twenty-two years old, from St. Petersburg. The first time I came here was in 1999, and I went back and forth a few times. What happened to her?" "Today I met Gubronsen, the policeman in charge of investigating the brothel in Sodertalje. Did you see the report last week? They found a floating body of a woman in the canal over there, and it made the headlines in the evening paper. It was Ily Na." "My God, it's horrible!" They sailed silently past Skanskur. "I mentioned her in my thesis." Mia said first, "I gave her a pseudonym 'Tamara'." Darger flipped "From Russia With Love" to the interview section, flipped through it quickly and found "Tamara."Mia read intently as he passed Gulma Plaza and the Dome. "She was brought here by a man you call Anton." "I can't use my real name. I might be criticized during the oral interview, but I can't name the girls, or their lives are really in danger. Obviously, I can't reveal the identity of the client, because they might guess me. Which girls did I talk to. So for all the case studies, I use pseudonyms.” "Who is Anton?" "His name is probably Zara. Haven't been able to figure out who he is, but I think he's Polish or Yugoslav, and that's not his real name. I talked to Irina four or five times, but it didn't work until the end. She didn’t tell me his name until we met. She was trying to get her life back on track and get out of the industry, but she must have been terrified of him.” "I was thinking, . . . I happened to see the name Zara about a week ago." "Where?" "I'm confronting Sangstrom - a reporter who's a client. The goddamn guy." "How to say?" "He's not really a reporter, he just writes commercials for various companies. He has a lot of perverted fantasies about rape, and he's going to force it on that girl..." "I know, I've talked to her personally." "And did you know that the Public Health Association published a pamphlet on STDs that he wrote?" "have no idea." "I questioned him last week. When I laid out all the evidence and asked him why he used young prostitutes in Eastern Europe to satisfy his rape fantasies, he lost control. Only later did I slowly find out why." "so what?" "Sangstrom wasn't just a customer, he also ran errands for the sex-trafficking mafia. He told me a few names he knew, including this Zara. He didn't say anything in particular about this guy, but it wasn't a common one. name." Mia glanced at him. "Do you know who he is?" Darger asked. "I don't know. I haven't been able to confirm his identity. It's just a name that pops up occasionally. The girls seem to be afraid of him, and no one wants to say anything."