The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest

Accordingly he had no thought of swindling Ms Salander.



So he went straight, or as straight as a burned-out lawyer could go who was administering an astronomical sum of stolen money.



Salander was simply not interested in the management of her finances. MacMillan's job was to invest her money and see to it that there were funds to cover the credit cards she used. She told him how she wanted her finances to be handled. His job was to make sure it was done.



A large part of the money had been invested in gilt-edged funds that would provide her with economic independence for the rest of her life, even if she chose to live it recklessly and dissolutely. It was from these funds that her credit card bills were paid.



The rest of the money he could play with and invest as he saw fit, provided that he did not invest in anything that might cause problems with the police in any way. She forbade him to engage in stupid petty crimes and cheap con games which  -  if he was unlucky  -  might prompt investigations which in turn could put her under scrutiny.



All that remained was to agree on how much he would make on the transactions.



"I'll pay you £500,000 as a retainer. With that you can pay off all your debts and have a good deal left over. After that you'll earn money for yourself. You will start a company with the two of us as partners. You get 20 per cent of all the profits generated. I want you to be rich enough that you won't be tempted to try it on, but not so rich that you won't make an effort."



He had started his new job on February 1 the year before. By the end of March he had paid off all his debts and stabilized his personal finances. Salander had insisted that he make cleaning up his own affairs a priority so that he would be solvent. In May he dissolved the partnership with his alcoholic colleague George Marks. He felt a twinge of conscience towards his former partner, but getting Marks mixed up in Salander's business was out of the question.



He discussed the matter with Salander when she returned to Gibraltar on another unheralded visit in early July and discovered that MacMillan was working out of his apartment instead of from the office he had previously occupied.



"My partner's an alcoholic and wouldn't be able to handle this. And he would be an enormous risk factor. At the same time, fifteen years ago he saved my life when he took me into his business."



She pondered this a while as she studied MacMillan's face.



"I see. You're a crook who's loyal. That could be a commendable quality. I suggest you set up a small account that he can play around with. See to it that he makes a couple of thousand a month so he gets by."



"Is that O.K. with you?"



She nodded and looked around his bachelor pad. He lived in a studio apartment with a kitchen nook on one of the alleys near the hospital. The only pleasant thing about the place was the view. On the other hand, it was a view that was hard to avoid in Gibraltar.



"You need an office and a nicer place to live," she said.



"I haven't had time," he said.



Then she went out and found an office for him, choosing a 130-square-metre place with a little balcony facing the sea in Buchanan House on Queensway Quay, which was definitely upmarket in Gibraltar. She hired an interior decorator to renovate and furnish it.



MacMillan recalled that while he had been busy shuffling papers, Salander had personally supervised the installation of an alarm system, computer equipment, and the safe that she had already rummaged through by the time he entered the office that morning.



"Am I in trouble?" he said.



She put down the folder with the correspondence she had been perusing.



"No, Jeremy. You're not in trouble."



"That's good," he said as he poured himself some coffee. "You have a way of popping up when I least expect it."



"I've been busy lately. I just wanted to get an update on what's been happening."



"I believe you were suspected of killing three people, you got shot in the head, and you were charged with a whole assortment of crimes. I was pretty worried for a while. I thought you were still in prison. Did you break out?"



"No. I was acquitted of all the charges and released. How much have you heard?"



He hesitated a moment. "Well, when I heard that you were in trouble, I hired a translation agency to comb the Swedish press and give me regular updates. I'm au fait with the details."



"If you're basing your knowledge on what you read in the papers, then you're not au fait at all. But I dare say you discovered a number of secrets about me."



He nodded.



"What's going to happen now?" he said.



She gave him a surprised look. "Nothing. We keep on exactly as before. Our relationship has nothing to do with my problems in Sweden. Tell me what's been happening since I've been away. Have you been doing alright?"



"I'm not drinking, if that's what you mean."



"No. Your private life doesn't concern me so long as it doesn't encroach on our business. I mean, am I richer or poorer than I was a year ago?"



He pulled out the visitor's chair and sat down. Somehow it did not matter to him that she was sitting in his chair.



"You turned over $2.4 billion to me. We put $200 million into personal funds for you. You gave me the rest to play with."



"And?"



"Your personal funds haven't grown by much more than the amount of interest. I could increase the profit if  - "



"I'm not interested in increasing the profit."



"O.K. You've spent a negligible amount. The principal expenses have been the apartment I bought for you and the fund you started for that lawyer Palmgren. Otherwise you've just had normal expenses. The interest rate has been favourable. You're running about even."



"Good."



"The rest I invested. Last year we didn't make very much. I was a little rusty and spent the time learning the market again. We've had expenses. We didn't really start generating income until this year. Since the start of the year we've taken about 7 million. Dollars, that is."



"Of which 20 per cent goes to you."



"Of which 20 per cent goes to me."



"Are you satisfied with that?"



"I've made more than a million dollars in six months. Yes, I'm satisfied."



"You know... you shouldn't get too greedy. You can cut back on your hours when you're satisfied. Just make sure you spend a few hours on my affairs every so often."



"Ten million dollars," he said.



"Excuse me?"



"When I get ten million together I'll pack it in. It was good that you turned up in my life. We have a lot to discuss."



"Fire away."



He threw up his hands.



"This is so much money that it scares the shit out of me. I don't know how to handle it. I don't know the purpose of the company besides making more money. What's all the money going to be used for?"



"I don't know."



"Me neither. But money can become an end in itself. It's crazy. That's why I've decided to call it quits when I've earned ten million for myself. I don't want the responsibility any longer."



"Fair enough."



"But before I call it a day I want you to decide how this fortune is to be administered in the future. There has to be a purpose and guidelines and some kind of organization that can take over."



"Mmm."



"It's impossible to conduct business this way. I've divided up the sum into long-term fixed investments  -  real estate, securities and so forth. There's a complete list on the computer."



"I've read it."



"The other half I've put into speculation, but it's so much money to keep track of that I can't keep up. So I set up an investment company on Jersey. At present you have six employees in London. Two talented young brokers and some clerical staff."



"Yellow Ballroom Ltd? I was wondering what that could be."



"Our company. Here in Gibraltar I've hired a secretary and a promising young lawyer. They'll be here in half an hour, by the way."



"I know. Molly Flint, forty-one, and Brian Delaney, twenty-six."



"Do you want to meet them?"



"No. Is Brian your lover?"



"What? No." He looked shocked. "I don't mix  - "



"Good."



"By the way, I'm not interested in young guys... inexperienced ones, I mean."



"No... you're more attracted to men with a tough attitude than to some snot-nosed kid. But it's still none of my business. But Jeremy..."



"Yes?"



"Be careful."



Salander had not planned to stay in Gibraltar for more than two weeks, just long enough, she thought, to get her bearings. But she suddenly discovered that she had no idea what she was going to do or where she should go. She stayed for three months. She checked her email once a day and replied promptly to messages from Giannini on the few occasions her lawyer got in touch. She did not tell her where she was. She did not answer any other email.



She still went to Harry's Bar, but now she came in only for a beer or two in the evenings. She spent large parts of her days at the Rock Hotel, either on her balcony or in bed. She got together with a thirty-year-old Royal Navy officer, but it was a one-night stand and all in all an uninteresting experience.



She was bored.



Early in October she had dinner with MacMillan. They had met up only a few times during her stay. It was dark and they drank a fruity white wine and discussed what they should use her billions for. And then he surprised her by asking what was upsetting her.



She studied his face for a long time and pondered the matter. Then she had, just as surprisingly, told him about her relationship with Miriam Wu, and how Mimmi had been beaten and almost killed. And she, Lisbeth, was to blame. Apart from one greeting sent by way of Giannini, Salander had not heard a word from Mimmi. And now she was in France.



MacMillan listened in silence.



"Are you in love with her?" he said at last.



Salander shook her head.



"No. I don't think I'm the type who falls in love. She was a friend. And we had good sex."



"Nobody can avoid falling in love," he said. "They might want to deny it, but friendship is probably the most common form of love."



She looked at him in astonishment.



"Will you get cross if I say something personal?"



"No."



"Go to Paris, for God's sake," he said.



She landed at Charles de Gaulle airport at 2.30 in the afternoon, took the airport bus to the Arc de Triomphe and spent two hours wandering around the nearby neighbourhoods trying to find a hotel room. She walked south towards the Seine and finally found a room at a small hotel, the Victor Hugo on rue Copernic.



She took a shower and called Miriam Wu. They met that evening at a bar near Notre Dame. Mimmi was dressed in a white shirt and jacket. She looked fabulous. Salander instantly felt shy. They kissed each other on the cheek.



"I'm sorry I haven't called, and that I didn't come to the trial," Mimmi said.



"That's O.K. The trial was behind closed doors anyway."



"I was in hospital for three weeks, and then it was chaos when I got home to Lundagatan. I couldn't sleep. I had nightmares about that bastard Niedermann. I called my mother and told her I wanted to come here, to Paris."



Salander said she understood.



"Forgive me," Mimmi said.



"Don't be such an idiot. I'm the one who's come here to ask you to forgive me."



"For what?"



"I wasn't thinking. It never occurred to me that I was putting you in such danger by turning over my old apartment to you. It was my fault that you were almost murdered. You'd have every right to hate me."



Mimmi looked shocked. "Lisbeth, I never even gave it a thought. It was Ronald Niedermann who tried to murder me, not you."



They sat in silence for a while.



"Alright," Salander said finally.



"Right," Mimmi said.



"I didn't follow you here because I'm in love with you," Salander said.



Mimmi nodded.



"We had great sex, but I'm not in love with you."



"Lisbeth, I think..."



"What I wanted to say was that I hope you... damn."



"What?"



"I don't have many friends..."



Mimmi nodded. "I'm going to be in Paris for a while. My studies at home were a mess so I signed up at the university here instead. I'll probably stay at least one academic year. After that I don't know. But I'm going to come back to Stockholm. I'm still paying the service charges on Lundagatan and I mean to keep the apartment. If that's O.K. with you."



"It's your apartment. Do what you want with it."



"Lisbeth, you're a very special person," Mimmi said. "I'd still like to be your friend."



They talked for two hours. Salander did not have any reason to hide her past from Miriam Wu. The Zalachenko business was familiar to everyone who had access to a Swedish newspaper, and Mimmi had followed the story with great interest. She gave Salander a detailed account of what had happened in Nykvarn the night Paolo Roberto saved her life.



Then they went back to Mimmi's student lodgings near the university.



EPILOGUE



EPILOGUE. INVENTORY OF ESTATE



FRIDAY, 2.XII  -  SUNDAY, 18.XII



Giannini met Salander in the bar of the Sodra theatre at 9.00. Salander was drinking beer and was already coming to the end of her second glass.



"Sorry I'm late," Giannini said, glancing at her watch. "I had to deal with another client."