The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

But there was a pattern, or at least a hint of a pattern. A labyrinth of enterprises owned by each other. Wennerstrom's empire was variously valued at between 100 and 400 billion kronor, depending on whom you asked and how it was calculated. But if companies own each other's assets - what then would be their value?



They had left Hedeby Island in great haste early in the morning after Salander dropped the bomb that was now occupying every waking moment of Blomkvist's life. They drove to Salander's place and spent two days in front of her computer while she guided him through Wennerstrom's universe. He had plenty of questions. One of them was pure curiosity.



"Lisbeth, how are you able to operate his computer, from a purely practical point of view?"



"It's a little invention that my friend Plague came up with. Wennerstrom has an IBM laptop that he works on, both at home and at the office. That means that all the information is on a single hard drive. He has a broadband connection to his property at home. Plague invented a type of cuff that you fasten around the broadband cable, and I'm testing it out for him. Everything that Wennerstrom sees is registered by the cuff, which forwards the data to a server somewhere else."



"Doesn't he have a firewall?"



Salander smiled.



"Of course he has a firewall. But the point is that the cuff also functions as a type of firewall. It takes a while to hack the computer this way. Let's say that Wennerstrom gets an email; it goes first to Plague's cuff and we can read it before it even passes through his firewall. But the ingenious part is that the email is rewritten and a few bytes of source code are added. This is repeated every time he downloads anything to his computer. Pictures are even better. He does a lot of surfing on the Net. Each time he picks up a porn picture or opens a new home page, we add several rows of source code. After a while, in several hours or several days, depending on how much he uses the computer, Wennerstrom has downloaded an entire programme of approximately three megabytes in which each bit is linked to the next bit."



"And?"



"When the last bits are in place, the programme is integrated with his Internet browser. To him it will look as though his computer has locked up, and he has to restart it. During the restart a whole new software programme is installed. He uses Internet Explorer. The next time he starts Explorer, he's really starting a whole different programme that's invisible on his desktop and looks and functions just like Explorer, but it also does a lot of other things. First it takes control of his firewall and makes sure that everything is working. Then it starts to scan the computer and transmits bits of information every time he clicks the mouse while he's surfing. After a while, again depending on how much he surfs, we've accumulated a complete mirror image of the contents of his hard drive on a server somewhere. And then it's time for the HT."



"HT?"



"Sorry. Plague calls it the HT. Hostile Takeover."



"I see."



"The really subtle thing is what happens next. When the structure is ready, Wennerstrom has two complete hard drives, one on his own machine and one on our server. The next time he boots up his computer, it's actually the mirrored computer that's starting. He's no longer working on his own computer; in reality he's working on our server. His computer will run a little slower, but it's virtually not noticeable. And when I'm connected to the server, I can tap his computer in real time. Each time Wennerstrom presses a key on his computer I see it on mine."



"Your friend is also a hacker?"



"He was the one who arranged the telephone tap in London. He's a little out of it socially, but on the Net he's a legend."



"OK," Blomkvist said, giving her a resigned smile. "Question number two: why didn't you tell me about Wennerstrom earlier?"



"You never asked me."



"And if I never did ask you - let's suppose that I never met you - you would have sat here knowing that Wennerstrom was a gangster while Millennium went bankrupt?"



"Nobody asked me to expose Wennerstrom for what he is," Salander replied in a know-it-all voice.



"Yes, but what if?"



"I did tell you," she said.



Blomkvist dropped the subject.



***



Salander burned the contents of Wennerstrom's hard drive - about five gigabytes - on to ten CDs, and she felt as if she had more or less moved into Blomkvist's apartment. She waited patiently, answering all the questions he asked.



"I can't understand how he can be so fucking dim to put all his dirty laundry on one hard drive," he said. "If it ever got into the hands of the police..."



"People aren't very rational. He has to believe that the police would never think of confiscating his computer."



"Above suspicion. I agree that he's an arrogant bastard, but he must have security consultants telling him how to handle his computer. There's material on this machine going all the way back to 1993."



"The computer itself is relatively new. It was manufactured a year ago, but he seems to have transferred all his old correspondence and everything else on to the hard drive instead of storing it on CDs. But at least he's using an encryption programme."



"Which is totally useless if you're inside his computer and reading the passwords every time he types them in."



After they'd been back in Stockholm for four days, Malm called on Blomkvist's mobile at 3:00 in the morning.



"Henry Cortez was at a bar with his girlfriend tonight."



"Uh-huh," Blomkvist said, sleepily.



"On the way home they ended up at Centralen's bar."



"Not a very good place for a seduction."



"Listen. Dahlman is on holiday. Henry discovered him sitting at a table with some guy."



"And?"



"Henry recognised the man from his byline pic. Krister Soder."



"I don't think I recognise the name, but..."



"He works for Monopoly Financial Magazine, which is owned by the Wennerstrom Group."



Blomkvist sat up straight in bed.



"Are you there?"



"I'm here. That might not mean anything. Soder is a journalist, and he might be an old friend."



"Maybe I'm being paranoid. But a while ago Millennium bought a story from a freelancer. The week before we were going to publish it, Soder ran an expose that was almost identical. It was the story about the mobile telephone manufacturer and the defective component."



"I hear what you're saying. But that sort of thing does happen. Have you talked to Erika?"



"No, she's not back until next week."



"Don't do anything. I'll call you back later," Blomkvist said.



"Problems?" Salander asked.



"Millennium," Blomkvist said. "I have to go there. Want to come along?"



The editorial offices were deserted. It took Salander three minutes to crack the password protection on Dahlman's computer, and another two minutes to transfer its contents to Blomkvist's iBook.



Most of Dahlman's emails were probably on his own laptop, and they did not have access to it. But through his desktop computer at Millennium, Salander was able to discover that Dahlman had a Hotmail account in addition to his millennium.se address. It took her six minutes to crack the code and download his correspondence from the past year. Five minutes later Blomkvist had evidence that Dahlman had leaked information about the situation at Millennium and kept the editor of Monopoly Financial Magazine updated on which stories Berger was planning for which issues. The spying had been going on at least since the previous autumn.



They turned off the computers and went back to Mikael's apartment to sleep for a few hours. He called Christer Malm at 10:00 a.m.



"I have proof that Dahlman is working for Wennerstrom."



"I knew it. Great, I'm going to fire that fucking pig today."



"No, don't. Don't do anything at all."



"Nothing?"



"Christer, trust me. Is Dahlman still on holiday?"



"Yes, he's back on Monday."



"How many are in the office today?"



"Well, about half."



"Can you call a meeting for 2:00? Don't say what it's about. I'm coming over."



There were six people around the conference table. Malm looked tired. Cortez looked like someone newly in love, the way that only twenty-four-year-olds can look. Nilsson looked on edge - Malm had not told anyone what the meeting was about, but she had been with the company long enough to know that something out of the ordinary was going on, and she was annoyed that she had been kept out of the loop. The only one who looked the same as usual was the part-timer Ingela Oskarsson, who worked two days a week dealing with simple administrative tasks, the subscriber list and the like; she had not looked truly relaxed since she became a mother two years ago. The other part-timer was the freelance reporter Lotta Karim, who had a contract similar to Cortez's and had just started back to work after her holiday. Malm had also managed to get Magnusson to come in, although he was still on holiday.



Blomkvist began by greeting everyone warmly and apologising for being so long absent.



"What we're going to discuss today is something that Christer and I haven't taken up with Erika, but I can assure you that in this case I speak for her too. Today we're going to determine Millennium's future."



He paused to let the words sink in. No-one asked any questions.



"The past year has been rough. I'm surprised and proud that none of you has reconsidered and found a job somewhere else. I have to assume that either you're stark raving mad or wonderfully loyal and actually enjoy working on this magazine. That's why I'm going to lay the cards on the table and ask you for one last effort."



"One last effort?" Nilsson said. "That sounds as if you're thinking of shutting down the magazine."



"Exactly, Monika," Blomkvist said. "And thank you for that. When she gets back Erika is going to gather us all together for a gloomy editorial meeting and to tell us that Millennium will fold at Christmas and that you're all fired."



Now alarm began spreading through the group. Even Malm thought for a moment that Blomkvist was serious. Then they all noticed his broad smile.



"What you have to do this autumn is play a double game. The disagreeable fact is that our dear managing editor, Janne Dahlman, is moonlighting as an informer for Hans-Erik Wennerstrom. This means that the enemy is being kept informed of exactly what's going on in our editorial offices. This explains a number of setbacks we've experienced. You especially, Sonny, when advertisers who seemed positive pulled out without warning."



Dahlman had never been popular in the office, and the revelation was apparently not a shock to anyone. Blomkvist cut short the murmuring that started up.



"The reason that I'm telling you this is because I have absolute confidence in all of you. I know that you've all got your heads screwed on straight. That's why I also know that you'll play along with what takes place this autumn. It's very important that Wennerstrom believes that Millennium is on the verge of collapse. It will be your job to make sure he does."



"What's our real situation?" Cortez said.



"OK, here it is: by all accounts Millennium should be on its way to the grave. I give you my word that that's not going to happen. Millennium is stronger today than it was a year ago. When this meeting is over, I'm going to disappear again for about two months. Towards the end of October I'll be back. Then we're going to clip Wennerstrom's wings."



"How are we going to do that?" Nilsson said.



"Sorry, Monika. I don't want to give you the details, but I'm writing a new story, and this time we're going to do it right. I'm thinking of having roast Wennerstrom for the Christmas party and various critics for dessert."



The mood turned cheerful. Blomkvist wondered how he would have felt if he were one of them sitting listening to all this. Dubious? Most likely. But apparently he still had some "trust capital" among Millennium's small group of employees. He held up his hand.



"If this is going to work, it's important that Wennerstrom believes that Millennium is on the verge of collapse because I don't want him to start some sort of retaliation or indeed get rid of the evidence which we mean to expose. So we're going to start writing a script that you'll follow during the coming months. First of all, it's important that nothing we discuss here today is written down or is referred to in emails. We don't know to what if any extent Dahlman has been digging around in our computers, and I've become aware that it's alarmingly simple to read coworkers' private email. So - we're going to do this orally. If you feel the need to air anything, go and see Christer at home. Very discreetly."



Blomkvist wrote "no email" on the whiteboard.



"Second, I want you to start squabbling among yourselves, complaining about me when Dahlman is around. Don't exaggerate. Just give your natural bitchy selves full rein. Christer, I want you and Erika to have a serious disagreement. Use your imagination and be secretive about the cause."



He wrote "start bitching" on the whiteboard.



"Third, when Erika comes home, her job will be to see to it that Janne Dahlman thinks our agreement with the Vanger Corporation - which is in fact giving us its full support - has fallen through because Henrik Vanger is seriously ill and Martin Vanger died in a car crash."



He wrote the word "disinformation."



"But the agreement really is solid?" Nilsson said.



"Believe me," Blomkvist said, "the Vanger Corporation will go to great lengths to ensure that Millennium survives. In a few weeks, let's say at the end of August, Erika will call a meeting to warn you about layoffs. You all know that it's a scam, and that the only one who's going to be leaving is Dahlman. But start talking about looking for new jobs and say what a lousy reference it is to have Millennium on your C.V."