“Oh shit,” Edklinth said. He saw the implications immediately.

“Since Falun was along, I have to suppose that they were intending to pay the printer’s a late-night visit, but they abandoned the expedition,” Figuerola said.

“Why?”

“Because Blomkvist asked Armansky to keep an eye on the factory until the magazine was distributed. They probably saw the car from Milton Security. I thought you’d want to know straightaway.”

“You’re right. It means that they’ve begun to smell a rat.”

“Alarm bells must have gone off in their heads when they saw the car. Sandberg dropped Faulsson off in town and then went back to Artillerigatan. We know that Clinton is there. Nyström arrived at about the same time. The question is, what are they going to do?”

“The trial starts on Wednesday… Can you reach Blomkvist and urge him to double up on security at Millennium? Just in case.”

“They already have good security. And they blew smoke rings round their tapped telephones – like old pros. Blomkvist is so paranoid already that he’s using diversionary tactics we could learn from.” “I’m happy to hear it, but call him anyway.”

Figuerola closed her mobile and put it on the bedside table. She looked up and studied Blomkvist as he lay naked with his head against the foot of the bed.

“I’m to call you and tell you to beef up security at Millennium,” she said.

“Thanks for the suggestion,” he said wryly.

“I’m serious. If they start to smell a rat, there’s a danger that they’ll go and do something without thinking. They might break in.”

“Henry’s sleeping there tonight. And we have a burglar alarm that goes straight to Milton Security, three minutes away.”

He lay in silence with his eyes shut.

“Paranoid,” he muttered.

CHAPTER 24

It was 6.00 on Monday morning when Linder from Milton Security called Blomkvist on his T10.

“Don’t you people ever rest?” Blomkvist said, drunk with sleep.

He glanced at Figuerola. She was up already and had changed into jogging shorts, but had not yet put on her T-shirt.

“Sure. But the night duty officer woke me. The silent alarm we installed at your apartment went off at 3.00.”

“Did it?”

“I drove down to see what was going on. This is a bit tricky. Could you come to Milton this morning? As soon as possible, that is.”

“This is serious,” Armansky said.

It was just after 8.00 when Armansky, Blomkvist and Linder were gathered in front of a T. V. monitor in a conference room at Milton Security. Armansky had also called in Johan Fräklund, a retired criminal inspector in the Solna police, now chief of Milton ’s operations unit, and the former inspector Sonny Bohman, who had been involved in the Salander affair from the start. They were pondering the surveillance video that Linder had just shown them.

“What we see here is Säpo officer Jonas Sandberg opening the door to Mikael’s apartment at 3.17. He has his own keys. You will recall that Faulsson the locksmith made copies of the spare set when he and Göran Mårtensson broke in several weeks ago.”

Armansky nodded sternly.

“Sandberg is in the apartment for approximately eight minutes. During that time he does the following things. First, he takes a small plastic bag from the kitchen, which he fills. Then he unscrews the back plate of a loudspeaker which you have in the living room, Mikael. That’s where he places the bag. The fact that he takes a bag from your kitchen is significant.”

“It’s a Konsum bag,” Blomkvist said. “I save them to put cheese and stuff in.”

“I do the same. What matters, of course, is that the bag has your fingerprints on it. Then he takes a copy of S.M.P. from the recycling bin in the hall. He tears off a page to wrap up an object which he puts on the top shelf of your wardrobe. Same thing there: the paper has your fingerprints on it.”

“I get you,” Blomkvist said.

“I drive to your apartment at around 5.00,” Linder said. “I find the following items: in your loudspeaker there are now approximately 180 grams of cocaine. I’ve taken a sample which I have here.”

She put a small evidence bag on the conference table.

“What’s in the wardrobe?” Blomkvist said.

“About 120,000 kronor in cash.”

Armansky motioned to Linder to turn off the T. V. He turned to Fräklund.

“So Mikael Blomkvist is involved in cocaine dealing,” Fräklund said good-naturedly. “Apparently they’ve started to get a little worried about what Blomkvist is working on.”

“This is a counter-move,” Blomkvist said.

“A counter-move to what?”

“They ran into Milton ’s security patrol in Morgongåva last night.”

He told them what he had heard from Figuerola about Sandberg’s expedition to the printing factory.

“That busy little rascal,” Bohman said.

“But why now?”

“They must be nervous about what Millennium might publish when the trial starts,” Fräklund said. “If Blomkvist is arrested for dealing cocaine, his credibility will drop dramatically.”

Linder nodded. Blomkvist looked sceptical.

“How are we going to handle this?” Armansky said.

“We should do nothing,” Fräklund said. “We hold all the cards. We have crystal-clear evidence of Sandberg planting the stuff in your apartment. Let them spring the trap. We can prove your innocence in a second, and besides, this will be further proof of the Section’s criminal activities. I would so love to be prosecutor when those guys are brought to trial.”

“I don’t know,” Blomkvist said slowly. “The trial starts the day after tomorrow. The magazine is on the stands on Friday, day three of the trial. If they plan to frame me for dealing cocaine, I’ll never have the time to explain how it happened before the magazine comes out. I risk sitting in prison and missing the beginning of the trial.”

“So, all the more reason for you to stay out of sight this week,” Armansky said.

“Well… I have to work with T.V.4 and I’ve got a number of other things to do. It would be enormously inconvenient-”

“Why right now?” Linder said suddenly.

“How do you mean?” Armansky said.

“They’ve had three months to smear Blomkvist. Why do it right now? Whatever happens they’re not going to be able to prevent publication.”

They all sat in silence for a moment.

“It might be because they don’t have a clue what you’re going to publish, Mikael,” Armansky said. “They have to suppose that you have something in the offing… but they might think all you have is Björck’s report. They have no reason to know that you’re planning on rolling up the whole Section. If it’s only about Björck’s report, then it’s certainly enough to blacken your reputation. Any revelations you might come up with would be drowned out when you’re arrested and charged. Big scandal. The famous Mikael Blomkvist arrested on a drugs charge. Six to eight years in prison.”

“Could I have two copies of the video?” Blomkvist said.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Lodge one copy with Edklinth. And in three hours I’m going to be at T.V.4. I think it would be prudent to have this ready to run on T. V. if or when all hell breaks loose.”

Figuerola turned off the D.V.D. player and put the remote on the table. They were meeting in the temporary office on Fridhemsplan.

“Cocaine,” Edklinth said. “They’re playing a very dirty game here.”

Figuerola looked thoughtful. She glanced at Blomkvist.

“I thought it best to keep all of you up to date,” he said with a shrug.

“I don’t like this,” Figuerola said. “It implies a recklessness. Someone hasn’t really thought this through. They must realize that you wouldn’t go quietly and let yourself be thrown into Kumla bunker under arrest on a drugs charge.”

“I agree,” Blomkvist said.