zukuw.cc 
Erika had already solved the problem of where to sleep. On previous occasions when she had been up to Hedeby to visit Vanger she had stayed in one of his spare rooms, and she asked him straight out if she could borrow the room again. Henrik could scarcely conceal his delight, and he assured her that she was welcome at any time.
With these formalities out of the way, Blomkvist and Berger went for a walk across the bridge and sat on the terrace of Susanne’s Bridge Café just before closing time.
“I’m really pissed off,” Berger said. “I drive all the way up here to welcome you back to freedom and find you in bed with the town femme fatale.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“How long have you and Miss Big Tits…” Berger waved her index finger.
“From about the time Vanger became part owner.”
“Aha.”
“What do you mean, aha?”
“Just curious.”
“Cecilia’s a good woman. I like her.”
“I’m not criticising. I’m just pissed off. Candy within reach and then I have to go on a diet. How was prison?”
“Like an uneventful holiday. How are things at the magazine?”
“Better. For the first time in a year the advertising revenue is on the rise. We’re way below this time last year, but we’ve turned the corner. Thanks to Henrik. But the weird thing is that subscriptions are going up too.”
“They tend to fluctuate.”
“By a couple of hundred one way or the other. But we’ve picked up three thousand in the past quarter. At first I thought it was just luck, but new subscribers keep coming in. It’s our biggest subscription jump ever. At the same time, our existing subscribers are renewing pretty consistently across the board. None of us can understand it. We haven’t run any ad campaigns. Christer spent a week doing spot checks on what sort of demographic is showing up. First, they’re all brand-new subscribers. Second, 70 percent of them are women. Normally it’s the other way around. Third, the subscribers can be described as middle-income white-collar workers from the suburbs: teachers, middle management, civil service workers.”
“Think it’s the middle-class revolt against big capital?”
“I don’t know. But if this keeps up, it’ll mean a significant shift in our subscriber profile. We had an editorial conference two weeks ago and decided to start running new types of material in the magazine. I want more articles on professional matters associated with TCO, the Swedish Confederation of Professional Employees, and also more investigative reporting on women’s issues, for instance.”
“Don’t change too much,” Blomkvist said. “If we’re getting new subscribers then it means that they like what we’re running already.”
?
Cecilia had also invited Vanger to dinner, possibly to reduce the risk of troublesome topics of conversation. She had made a venison stew. Berger and Vanger spent a good deal of the time discussing Millennium’s development and the new subscribers, but gradually the conversation moved on to other matters. Berger suddenly turned to Blomkvist at one point and asked him how his work was coming along.
“I’m counting on having a draft of the family chronicle complete in a month for Henrik to look at.”
“A chronicle in the spirit of the Addams family,” Cecilia said.
“It does have certain historical aspects,” Blomkvist conceded.
Cecilia glanced at Vanger.
“Mikael, Henrik isn’t really interested in a family chronicle. He wants you to solve the mystery of Harriet’s disappearance.”
Blomkvist did not say a word. Ever since he had begun his relationship with Cecilia he had talked fairly openly about Harriet with her. Cecilia had already deduced that this was his real assignment, even though he never formally admitted it. He had certainly never told Henrik that he and Cecilia had discussed the subject. Vanger’s bushy eyebrows drew together a bit. Erika was silent.
“My dear Henrik,” Cecilia said. “I’m not stupid. I don’t know what sort of agreement you and Mikael have, but his stay here in Hedeby is about Harriet. It is, isn’t it?”
Vanger nodded and glanced at Blomkvist.
“I told you she was sharp.” He turned to Berger. “I presume that Mikael has explained to you what he’s working on here in Hedeby.”
She nodded.
“And I presume you think it’s a senseless undertaking. No, you don’t have to answer that. It is an absurd and senseless task. But I have to find out.”
“I have no opinion on the matter,” Berger said diplomatically.
“Of course you do.” He turned to Blomkvist. “Tell me. Have you found anything at all that might take us forward?”
Blomkvist avoided meeting Vanger’s gaze. He thought instantly of the cold, unplaceable certainty he had had the night before. The feeling had been with him all day, but he had had no time to work his way through the album again. At last he looked up at Vanger and shook his head.
“I haven’t found a single thing.”
The old man scrutinised him with a penetrating look. He refrained from commenting.
“I don’t know about you young people,” he said, “but for me it’s time to go to bed. Thank you for dinner, Cecilia. Good night, Erika. Do see me before you leave tomorrow.”
?
When Vanger had closed the front door, silence settled over them. It was Cecilia who spoke first.
“Mikael, what was all that about?”
“It means that Henrik is as sensitive to people’s reactions as a seismograph. Last night when you came to the cottage I was looking through an album.”
“Yes?”
“I saw something. I don’t know what it was yet. It was something that almost became an idea, but I missed it.”
“So what were you thinking about?”
“I just can’t tell you. And then you arrived.”
Cecilia blushed. She avoided Berger’s gaze and went out to put on some coffee.
?
It was a warm and sunny day. New green shoots were appearing, and Blomkvist caught himself humming the old song of spring, “Blossom Time Is Coming.” It was Monday and Berger had left early.
When he had gone to prison in mid-March, snow still covered the land. Now the birches were turning green and the lawn around his cabin was lush. For the first time he had a chance to look around all of Hedeby Island. At 8:00 he went over and asked to borrow a thermos from Anna. He spoke briefly with Vanger, who was just up, and was given his map of the island. He wanted to get a closer look at Gottfried’s cabin. Vanger told him that the cabin was owned by Martin Vanger now but that it had stood mostly vacant over the years. Occasionally some relative would borrow it.
Blomkvist just managed to catch Martin before he left for work. He asked if he might borrow the key. Martin gave him an amused smile.
