David Lagercrantz - The Girl in the Spider's Web

He liked to work with policemen and he loved the tension in the air after dramatic events. He had been excited and expectant as he drove out to the house in Saltsjöbaden in the course of his night duty. There was a touch of Hollywood about the situation, he thought. A Swedish scientist had been murdered, his eight-year-old son had been at the house, and he, Forsberg, had been sent to try to get the boy to open up. He straightened his hair and his glasses several times in the rear-view mirror.

He wanted to make a stylish impression, but once he arrived he was not much of a success. He could not make the boy out. Still, he felt acknowledged and important. The detectives asked him how they should go about questioning the child and — even though he did not have a clue — his answer was received with respect. That gave his ego a little boost and he did his best to be helpful. He found out that the boy suffered from infantile autism and had never spoken or been receptive to the world around him.

“There’s nothing we can do for the time being,” he said. “His mental faculties are too weak. As a psychologist I have to put his need for care first.” The policemen listened to him with serious expressions and let him drive the boy home to his mother — who was another little bonus in the whole story.

She was the actress Hanna Balder. He had had the hots for her ever since he saw her in “The Mutineers” and he remembered her hips and her long legs, and even though she was now a bit older she was still attractive. Besides, her current partner was clearly a bastard. Forsberg did his best to appear knowledgeable and charming in a low-key way; within moments he got an opportunity to be authoritative, and that made him proud.

With a wild expression on his face the son began to draw black and white blocks, or squares, and Forsberg pronounced that this was unhealthy. It was precisely the kind of destructive compulsive behaviour that autistic children slip into, and he insisted that August stop immediately. This was not received with as much gratitude as he had hoped for. Still, it had made him feel decisive and manly, and while he was at it he almost paid Hanna a compliment for her performance in “The Mutineers”. But then he decided that it was probably not the right time. Maybe that had been a mistake.

Now it was 1.00 in the afternoon, and he was back home at his terraced house in Vällingby. He was in the bathroom with his electric toothbrush, feeling exhausted, when his mobile rang. At first he was irritated — but then he smiled. It was none other than Hanna Balder.

“Forsberg,” he answered in an urbane voice.

“Hello,” she said. “August, August...”

She sounded desperate and angry.

“Tell me, what’s the problem?”

“All he wants to do is draw his chessboard squares. But you’re saying he isn’t allowed to.”

“No, no, it’s compulsive. But please, just stay calm.”

“How the hell am I supposed to stay calm?”

“The boy needs you to be composed.”

“But I can’t be. He’s yelling and lashing out at everything. You said you could help.”

“Well, yes,” he said, hesitant at first. Then he brightened, as if he had won some sort of victory. “Absolutely, of course. I’ll see to it that he gets a place with us at Oden’s.”

“Wouldn’t that be letting him down?”

“On the contrary, you’re just taking account of his needs. I’ll see to it personally that you can visit us as often as you like.”

“Maybe that’s the best solution.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Will you come right away?”

“I’ll be with you as soon as I can,” he said. First he had to smarten himself up a bit.Then he added: “Did I tell you that I loved you in ‘The Mutineers’?”

It was no surprise to Levin that William Borg was already at the table at Sturehof, nor that he ordered the most expensive items on the menu, sole meunière and a glass of Pouilly-Fumé. Journalists generally made the most of it when he invited them to lunch. But it did surprise — and annoy — him that Borg had taken the initiative, as if he were the one with the money and the power. Why had he mentioned that raise? He should have kept Borg on tenterhooks, let him sit there and sweat instead.

“A little bird whispered in my ear that you’re having difficulties with Millennium ,” Borg said, and Levin thought, I’d give my right arm to wipe that self-righteous smirk off his face .

“You’ve been misinformed,” he said stiffly.

“Really?”

“We have the situation under control.”

“How so, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“If the editorial team is disposed to accept change and is ready to recognize the problems it has, we’ll back them.”

“And if not...”

“We’ll pull out, and Millennium will be unlikely to stay afloat for more than a few months, which would of course be a great shame. But that’s what the market looks like at the moment. Better magazines than Millennium have gone under. It’s been only a modest investment for us and we can manage without it.”

“Skip the bullshit, Ove. I know that this is a matter of pride for you.”

“It’s just business.”

“I’d heard that you wanted to get Mikael Blomkvist off the editorial team.”

“We’ve been thinking of transferring him to London.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh, considering what he’s done for the magazine?”

“We’ve made him a very generous offer,” Levin said, feeling that he was being unnecessarily defensive and predictable.

He had almost forgotten the purpose of the lunch.

“Personally I don’t blame you,” Borg said. “You can ship him off to China, for all I care. I’m just wondering if it isn’t going to be a bit tricky for you if Blomkvist makes a grand comeback with this Frans Balder story.”

“Why would that happen? He’s lost his sting. You of all people have pointed that out — and with considerable success, if I may say so,” Levin said with an attempt at sarcasm.

“Well, yes, but I did get a little help.”

“Not from me, you didn’t; of that you can be sure. I hated that column. Thought it was badly written and tendentious. The one who kicked off the campaign against him was Thorvald Serner, you know that.”

“But you can’t be altogether unhappy about the way things are going right now?”

“Listen to me, William. I have the greatest respect for Mikael Blomkvist.”

“You don’t have to put on your politician act with me, Ove.”

Levin felt like ramming something down Borg’s throat.

“I’m just being open and honest,” he said. “And I’ve always thought Blomkvist a fantastic reporter, of a different calibre to you and everyone else of his generation.”

“Is that so?” Borg said, suddenly looking meek, and that made Levin feel better right away.

“That’s how it is. We should be grateful to Blomkvist for the revelations he’s given us, and I wish him all the best, I really do. But unfortunately it’s not my job to get nostalgic and look back to the good old days. I have to concede that you have a point in suggesting that the man has got out of step with the times, and that he could get in the way of your plans to relaunch Millennium .”

“True, true.”

“So for that reason it would be good if there weren’t too many headlines about him right now.”