more aggressive and hostile when she asked the questions. She saw that Erlander had noticed the same thing.
OK. Good cop, bad cop
. Modig raised her voice.
“You don’t think that her actions could have anything to do with the fact that you had beaten her mother so badly that she suffered permanent brain damage?”
Zalachenko turned his head towards Modig.
“That is all bullshit. Her mother was a whore. It was probably one of her johns who beat her up. I just happened to be passing by.”
Modig raised her eyebrows. “So you’re completely innocent?”
“Of course I am.”
“Zalachenko . . . let me repeat that to see if I’ve understood you correctly. You say that you never beat your girlfriend, Agneta Sofia Salander, Lisbeth’s mother, despite the fact that the whole business is the subject of a long report, stamped TOP SECRET, written at the time by your handler at Säpo, Gunnar Björck.”
“I was never convicted of anything. I have never been charged. I cannot help it if some idiot in the Security Police fantasizes in his reports. If I had been a suspect, they would have at the very least questioned me.”
Modig made no answer. Zalachenko seemed to be grinning beneath his bandages.
“So I wish to press charges against my daughter. For trying to kill me.”
Modig sighed. “I’m beginning to understand why she felt an uncontrollable urge to slam an axe into your head.”
Erlander cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Herr Bodin. We should get back to any information you might have about Ronald Niedermann’s activities.”
Modig made a call to Inspector Bublanski from the corridor outside Zalachenko’s hospital room.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Nothing?”
Bublanski said.
“He’s lodging a complaint with the police against Salander—for aggravated assault and attempted murder. He says that he had nothing to do with the murders in Stockholm.”
“And how does he explain the fact that Salander was buried in a trench on his property in Gosseberga?”
“He says he had a cold and was asleep most of the day. If Salander was shot in Gosseberga, it must have been something that Niedermann decided to do.”
“So what do we have?”
“She was shot with a Browning, .22 calibre. Which is why she’s still alive. We found the weapon. Zalachenko admits that it’s his.”
“I see. In other words, he knows we’re going to find his prints on the gun.”
“Exactly. But he says that the last time he saw the gun, it was in his desk drawer.”
“Which means that the excellent Herr Niedermann took the weapon while Zalachenko was asleep and shot Salander. This is one cold bastard. Do we have any evidence to the contrary?”
Modig thought for a few seconds before she replied. “Zalachenko is well versed in Swedish law and police procedure. He doesn’t admit to a thing, and he has Niedermann as a scapegoat. I don’t have any idea what we can prove. I asked Erlander to send his clothes to forensics and have them examined for traces of gunpowder, but he’s bound to say that he was doing target practice two days ago.”
Salander was aware of the smell of almonds and ethanol. It felt as if she had alcohol in her mouth and she tried to swallow, but her tongue felt numb and paralysed. She tried to open her eyes, but she could not. In the distance she heard a voice that seemed to be talking to her, but she could not understand the words. Then she heard the voice quite clearly.
“I think she’s coming around.”
She felt someone touch her forehead and tried to brush away the intrusive hand. At the same moment she felt intense pain in her left shoulder. She forced herself to relax.
“Can you hear me, Lisbeth?”
Go away
.
“Can you open your eyes?”
Who was this fucking idiot harping on at her?
Finally she did open her eyes. At first she just saw strange lights, until a figure appeared in the centre of her field of vision. She tried to focus her gaze, but the figure kept slipping away. She felt
OK. Good cop, bad cop
. Modig raised her voice.
“You don’t think that her actions could have anything to do with the fact that you had beaten her mother so badly that she suffered permanent brain damage?”
Zalachenko turned his head towards Modig.
“That is all bullshit. Her mother was a whore. It was probably one of her johns who beat her up. I just happened to be passing by.”
Modig raised her eyebrows. “So you’re completely innocent?”
“Of course I am.”
“Zalachenko . . . let me repeat that to see if I’ve understood you correctly. You say that you never beat your girlfriend, Agneta Sofia Salander, Lisbeth’s mother, despite the fact that the whole business is the subject of a long report, stamped TOP SECRET, written at the time by your handler at Säpo, Gunnar Björck.”
“I was never convicted of anything. I have never been charged. I cannot help it if some idiot in the Security Police fantasizes in his reports. If I had been a suspect, they would have at the very least questioned me.”
Modig made no answer. Zalachenko seemed to be grinning beneath his bandages.
“So I wish to press charges against my daughter. For trying to kill me.”
Modig sighed. “I’m beginning to understand why she felt an uncontrollable urge to slam an axe into your head.”
Erlander cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Herr Bodin. We should get back to any information you might have about Ronald Niedermann’s activities.”
Modig made a call to Inspector Bublanski from the corridor outside Zalachenko’s hospital room.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Nothing?”
Bublanski said.
“He’s lodging a complaint with the police against Salander—for aggravated assault and attempted murder. He says that he had nothing to do with the murders in Stockholm.”
“And how does he explain the fact that Salander was buried in a trench on his property in Gosseberga?”
“He says he had a cold and was asleep most of the day. If Salander was shot in Gosseberga, it must have been something that Niedermann decided to do.”
“So what do we have?”
“She was shot with a Browning, .22 calibre. Which is why she’s still alive. We found the weapon. Zalachenko admits that it’s his.”
“I see. In other words, he knows we’re going to find his prints on the gun.”
“Exactly. But he says that the last time he saw the gun, it was in his desk drawer.”
“Which means that the excellent Herr Niedermann took the weapon while Zalachenko was asleep and shot Salander. This is one cold bastard. Do we have any evidence to the contrary?”
Modig thought for a few seconds before she replied. “Zalachenko is well versed in Swedish law and police procedure. He doesn’t admit to a thing, and he has Niedermann as a scapegoat. I don’t have any idea what we can prove. I asked Erlander to send his clothes to forensics and have them examined for traces of gunpowder, but he’s bound to say that he was doing target practice two days ago.”
Salander was aware of the smell of almonds and ethanol. It felt as if she had alcohol in her mouth and she tried to swallow, but her tongue felt numb and paralysed. She tried to open her eyes, but she could not. In the distance she heard a voice that seemed to be talking to her, but she could not understand the words. Then she heard the voice quite clearly.
“I think she’s coming around.”
She felt someone touch her forehead and tried to brush away the intrusive hand. At the same moment she felt intense pain in her left shoulder. She forced herself to relax.
“Can you hear me, Lisbeth?”
Go away
.
“Can you open your eyes?”
Who was this fucking idiot harping on at her?
Finally she did open her eyes. At first she just saw strange lights, until a figure appeared in the centre of her field of vision. She tried to focus her gaze, but the figure kept slipping away. She felt
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