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Stieg Larsson: The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Nest

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Stieg Larsson The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Nest

The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Nest: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Salander is plotting her revenge – against the man who tried to kill her, and against the government institutions that very nearly destroyed her life. But it is not going to be a straightforward campaign. After taking a bullet to the head, Salander is under close supervision in Intensive Care, and is set to face trial for three murders and one attempted murder on her eventual release. With the help of journalist Mikael Blomkvist and his researchers at Millennium magazine, Salander must not only prove her innocence, but identify and denounce the corrupt politicians that have allowed the vulnerable to become victims of abuse and violence. Once a victim herself, Salander is now ready to fight back.

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“Well, what would have happened if you’d been run over by a bus? Then they would have been without an editor-in-chief with only a moment’s notice.”

Erika looked up. “But I haven’t been run over by a bus. I’ve been deliberately keeping quiet about my decision for weeks now.”

“I can see this is a difficult situation, but I’ve got a feeling that Micke and Christer Malm and the others will be able to work things out. I think you ought to tell them right away.”

“Alright, but your damned brother is in Göteborg today. He’s asleep and has turned off his mobile.”

“I know. There aren’t many people who are as stubborn as Mikael about not being available when you need him. But Erika, this isn’t about you and Micke. I know that you’ve worked together for twenty years or so and you’ve had your ups and downs, but you have to think about Christer and the others on the staff too.”

“I’ve been keeping it under wraps all this time – Mikael’s going to –”

“Micke’s going to go through the roof, of course he is. But if he can’t handle the fact that you screwed up one time in twenty years, then he isn’t worth the time you’ve put in for him.”

Berger sighed.

“Pull yourself together,” Giannini told her. “Call Christer in, and the rest of the staff. Right now.”

Malm sat motionless for a few seconds. Berger had gathered her colleagues into Millennium ’s small conference room with only a few minutes’ notice, just as he was about to leave early. He glanced at Cortez and Karim. They were as astonished as he was. Malin Eriksson, the assistant editor, had not known anything either, nor had Monika Nilsson, the reporter, or the advertising manager Magnusson. Blomkvist was the only one absent from the meeting. He was in Göteborg being his usual Blomkvist self.

Good God. Mikael doesn’t know anything about it either , thought Malm. How on earth is he going to react?

Then he realized that Berger had stopped talking, and it was as silent as the grave in the conference room. He shook his head, stood up, and spontaneously gave Berger a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Congrats, Ricky,” he said. “Editor-in-chief of S.M.P . That’s not a bad step up from this sorry little rag.”

Cortez came to life and began to clap. Berger held up her hands.

“Stop,” she said. “I don’t deserve any applause today.” She looked around at her colleagues in the cramped editorial office. “Listen… I’m terribly sorry that it had to be this way. I wanted to tell you so many weeks ago, but the news sort of got drowned out by all the turmoil surrounding Dag and Mia. Mikael and Malin have been working like demons, and… it just didn’t ever seem like the right time or place. And that’s how we’ve arrived at this point today.”

Eriksson realized with terrible clarity how understaffed the paper was, and how empty it was going to seem without Berger. No matter what happened, or whatever problem arose, Berger had been a boss she could always rely on. Well… no wonder the biggest morning daily had recruited her. But what was going to happen now? Erika had always been a crucial part of Millennium .

“There are a few things we have to get straight. I’m perfectly aware that this is going to create difficulties in the office. I didn’t want it to, but that’s the way things are. First of all: I won’t abandon Millennium . I’m going to stay on as a partner and will attend board meetings. I won’t, of course, have any influence in editorial matters.”

Malm nodded thoughtfully.

“Secondly, I officially leave on the last day of April. But today is my last day of work. Next week I’ll be travelling, as you know. It’s been planned for a long time. And I’ve decided not to come back here to put in any days during the transition period.” She paused for a moment. “The next issue of the magazine is ready in the computer. There are a few minor things that need fixing. It will be my final issue. A new editor-in-chief will have to take over. I’m clearing my desk tonight.”

There was absolute silence in the room.

“The selection of a new editor-in-chief will have to be discussed and made by the board. It’s something that you all on the staff will have to talk through.”

“Mikael,” Malm said.

“No. Never Mikael. He’s surely the worst possible editor-in-chief you could pick. He’s perfect as publisher and damned good at editing articles and tying up loose ends in work that is going to be published. He’s the fixer. The editor-in-chief has to be the one who takes the initiative. Mikael also has a tendency to bury himself in his own stories and be totally off the radar for weeks at a time. He’s at his best when things heat up, but he’s incredibly bad at routine work. You all know that.”

Malm muttered his assent and then said: “ Millennium functioned because you and Mikael were a good balance for each other.”

“That’s not the only reason. You remember when Mikael was up in Hedestad sulking for almost a whole bloody year. Millennium functioned without him precisely the way the magazine is going to have to function without me now.”

“O.K. What’s your plan?”

“My choice would be for you, Christer, to take over as editor-inchief.”

“Not on your life.” Malm threw up his hands.

“But since I knew that’s what you would say, I have another solution. Malin. You can start as acting editor-in-chief as from today.”

“Me?” Eriksson said. She sounded shocked.

“Yes, you. You’ve been damned good as assistant editor.”

“But I –”

“Give it a try. I’ll be out of my office tonight. You can move in on Monday morning. The May issue is done – we’ve already worked hard on it. June is a double issue, and then you have a month off. If it doesn’t work, the board will have to find somebody else for August. Henry… you’ll have to go full-time and take Malin’s place as assistant editor. Then we’ll need to hire a new employee. But that will be up to all of you, and to the board.”

She studied the group thoughtfully.

“One more thing. I’ll be starting at another publication. For all practical purposes, S.M.P . and Millennium are not competitors, but nevertheless I don’t want to know any more than I already do about the content of the next two issues. All such matters should be discussed with Malin, effective immediately.”

“What should we do about this Salander story?” Cortez said.

“Discuss it with Mikael. I know something about Salander, but I’m putting what I know in mothballs. I won’t take it to S.M.P .”

Berger suddenly felt an enormous wave of relief. “That’s about it,” she said, and she ended the meeting by getting up and going back to her office without another word.

Millennium’ s staff sat in silence.

It was not until an hour later that Eriksson knocked on Berger’s door.

“Hello there.”

“Yes?” said Berger.

“The staff would like to have a word.”

“What is it?”

“Out here.”

Berger got up and went to the door. They had set a table with cake and Friday afternoon coffee.

“We think we should have a party and give you a real send-off in due course,” Malm said. “But for now, coffee and cake will have to do.”

Berger smiled, for the first time in a long time.

CHAPTER 3

FRIDAY, 8.IV – SATURDAY, 9.IV

Zalachenko had been awake for eight hours when Inspectors Modig and Erlander came to his room at 7.00 in the evening. He had undergone a rather extensive operation in which a significant section of his jaw was realigned and fixed with titanium screws. His head was wrapped in so many bandages that you could see only his left eye and a narrow slit of mouth. A doctor had explained that the axe blow had crushed his cheekbone and damaged his forehead, peeling off a large part of the flesh on the right side of his face and tugging at his eye socket. His injuries were causing him immense pain. He had been given large doses of painkillers, yet was relatively lucid and able to talk. But the officers were warned not to tire him.

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