The Man Who Left Too Soon: The Life and Works of Stieg Larsson (26 page)

The police search for the grotesque Niedermann continues, without much success (Larsson is aware that a man of such a distinctive appearance should be easy to track down, and does have his characters acknowledge this). The police talk about an inventory of the woodshed in which Zalachenko was found and there is another one of the author’s famous trouncings of an unsympathetic character (in this case, not – as is usual – a violent one). The wrong-headed Paulsson is disbelieved by all of his colleagues and has collapsed from exhaustion. There is general dissatisfaction about the fact that the incompetent policeman arrested Blomkvist. Finally, the ludicrous idea of a lesbian Satanist gang in Stockholm is trashed, and the police realise that Säpo, the security services, are involved and that perhaps – as Blomkvist claimed – there has been some kind of cover-up. The reader, of course, is aware that Zalachenko is being protected after his defection, and the attempted framing of Salander is all part of this fairly despicable attempt at concealment. The police finally realise that the next logical step is to interrogate Zalachenko with a view to finding out what he has to say about the murders in Stockholm – as well as learning Niedermann’s role in Zalachenko’s business (it is accepted that Zalachenko may be able to point them in the direction of the violent missing man).

As often happens in the trilogy, we are taken back to the offices of the magazine
Millennium
, and it is interesting to note how well these sections always function within the context of the novel – possibly because while much authorial invention is required for the more outlandish developments in the plot, in the sections involving the magazine, Larsson is able to draw upon his own experience in such environments to create a total verisimilitude. Erika Berger is talking to Blomkvist’s sister Annika, and the editor tells the lawyer that she is planning to resign from the magazine but hasn’t yet been able to tell her colleague and lover as he is so involved in the chaos surrounding Salander. Erika is, in fact, leaving to be the editor-in-chief of another prestigious journal – basically, an offer she cannot refuse. For the rest of the chapter, we are filled in on the dynamics of
Millennium
itself – not least the fact that its survival is now possibly in some doubt.

Chapter 3 begins in the company of the deeply unpleasant Zalachenko, who has been awake for several hours when inspectors Modig and Erlander arrive in his room. He has undergone an extensive operation in which a large section of his jaw has been realigned and set with titanium screws. The axe blow has apparently crushed his cheekbone and taken off a section of the flesh on the right side of his face. He is now, appropriately, physically the kind of monster that he has long been morally. Zalachenko’s approach with the two policemen is to pretend that he is now a broken man, old and lacking in physical resources. He points out that he had felt threatened by Niedermann, and when he is asked why his daughter threw a Molotov cocktail into his car in the early 1990s, he replies in a hostile tone that Salander is mentally ill.

Provocatively (playing good cop, bad cop), Modig decides to go in for the kill, by asking if his daughter’s actions had anything to do with the fact that he, Zalachenko, had beaten Lisbeth’s mother so badly that she suffered long-term brain damage. Zalachenko’s reply is characteristic: ‘That is all bullshit. Her mother was a whore. It was probably one of her punters who beat her up. I just happened to be passing by.’ Zalachenko points out that he wishes to press charges against his daughter for trying to kill him. Modig decides to dispense with any attempt at politeness and points out to Zalachenko that she now understands why his daughter would try to drive an axe into his head.

At this point in the novel, of course, its most charismatic and iconic character has been notable for her absence for some time – Larsson appreciates that he needs to ration out the appearances of his characters for them to retain their mystique. Salander awakes, aware of the smell of almonds and ethanol, and voices around her note that she is finally coming around. She can barely speak as Doctor Jonasson tells her that he has operated on her after an injury. Lisbeth has only vague memories of the appalling violence and conflict she has been through – and in which she has taken a considerable part herself.

Having established his heroine again, swimming back to a kind of consciousness and coherence, Larsson returns the narrative to Blomkvist, who has booked himself into a hotel room and is starting to feel human once again. Blomkvist is stunned to learn that Erika has decided to take a job on another magazine and rather hurt to find that he is the last to find out. As often before, Larsson now reintroduces us into the company of his deeply unpleasant heavies, notably the violent Nieminen, still smarting (both physically and otherwise) over the punishment he has undergone at the hands of the slight (but devastating) Salander. Nieminen and his equally unpleasant colleague Waltari find the murdered bodies of two of their associates: the woman’s neck has been broken and her head turned through 180 degrees, while the man has had his larynx rammed deep into his throat. The criminals are conscious of the fact that Niedermann was on the run and needed cash – the man he has murdered is the one who handles the money. The duo realise that they must track down Niedermann, which will require every contact they have in the clubs all over Scandinavia (one of them says: ‘I want that bastard’s head on a platter’).

Salander, in the hospital room, is slowly recuperating and talking to another doctor. At the same time, Zalachenko, still in extreme pain, is being visited by the police (including ‘that bloody Modig woman’) but he is not offering any suggestions as to how to track down Niedermann – now pursued by both the police and the heavies. Zalachenko begins to calculate how he is going to come out at the other end of this situation, and consults his colleagues in the security services as to how he can effect damage control. While Larsson presents the spooks as unsympathetic, they are mere beginners compared to the man they are helping, who says – about his own daughter – that she has to disappear. Her testimony must be declared invalid, and she will have to be committed to a mental institution for the rest of her life.

We are, of course, once again in the kind of situation that Larsson has frequently created for his beleaguered heroine, and it is a mark of his skill that he is still able to persuade the reader that such things could still happen, given the number of people who now know how Salander has been framed. However, it is perhaps easy to see from this that the perfect number of books to feature Salander was three – after a trilogy, it would be extremely unconvincing if the author were obliged to keep putting his heroine back into this particular situation
ad infinitum
.

Of the various scenarios that Larsson created to turn the screws on his protagonists, perhaps the most striking is the fact that Salander is recuperating in a hospital room just a few doors away from her murderous father. Blomkvist visits the other sympathetic male ‘protector’ of Lisbeth – her some-time employer Armansky – and asks the latter whether he can trust him or not. Armansky replies ‘I’m her friend. Although, as you know, that’s not necessarily the same thing as saying she’s my friend.’ But while Armansky is not prepared to engage in any sort of criminal activity, he is happy to listen to any strategy that Blomkvist might suggest in order to help Lisbeth. This, of course, involves Blomkvist’s sister Annika representing her legally. At this point, Larsson introduces another new character, an ex-Senior Administrative Officer at the Security Police, the elderly Gullberg who, although he has retired, still maintains a professional alertness.

We are then given one of the extensive Larsson character fill-ins that either help illuminate (if you are a sympathetic reader) or infuriate (if you are not), but which undoubtedly have the effect of bringing to life characters who become involved in the narrative. Gullberg had been involved in the Wennerström debacle, which caused major problems in the Security Police. Gullberg and his colleagues were financed through a special fund, but outwardly did not appear to exist within the structure of the security policy. Gullberg is at this point unaccountable to anyone. It is here that the author once again brings in real events by having Gullberg remember Election Day, 1976, and his own thoughts on the suitability as prime minister of real-life politician Olof Palme (who was, of course, assassinated). But in connection with Zala’s defection, Gullberg remembers a young man who would be prepared to bend the rules in the service of his boss: Gunnar Björck, who has, of course, figured throughout the narrative. Björck had dealt with Zalachenko when the latter requested asylum, and the two men were involved when a massive structure of secrecy was built around the prize defector.

Also involved in the reception for Zalachenko was the lawyer Nils Erik Bjurman who, of course, was one of the many sexual abusers of Salander and the man who has had particular cause to regret what he had done to her. Larsson has now provided us with another spectacularly nasty set of individuals, with Lisbeth’s murderous father at the centre. Gullberg makes it clear that even the very name ‘Lisbeth Salander’ instilled in him a deep displeasure, but he has also grown to loathe his charge Zalachenko. He is well aware that the latter is a ‘sick bastard’, but considers that making moral judgements is not his particular problem. In another lengthy exposition, Larsson tells us that Björck came up with a solution to the Zalachenko problem – after the latter’s attack, everyone involved in the case was to be quietly filed away with Salander committed to an institution for the insane. Björck’s boss Gullberg thoroughly approved the operation. After this filling in of the back story – actually fascinatingly handled (though there is no doubt that Larsson could occasionally be pedestrian in this kind of passage) – we are taken back to Salander in her hospital bed removing her neck brace and hunting for a weapon. We are reminded that whatever has been done to her, she remains the ultimate survivor.

Critics of the
Millennium Trilogy
have pointed out that Salander’s implausible capacity for survival in this final book is worthy of a super-heroine, but while the author has always maintained a level of verisimilitude, he has also tacitly requested a certain suspension of disbelief where the abilities of his heroine are concerned. And most readers who have got this far would be more than prepared to extend that suspension.

Zalachenko is moving around the room on crutches and training himself to be able to move again. Salander opens her eyes when she hears a scraping sound in the corridor and a grim thought occurs to her: ‘Zalachenko is out there somewhere’. She is still in a neck brace and finds it difficult to move. Gullberg is informed that Björck is on sick leave – and the Zala affair is still very much on Gullberg’s mind. In the department there is a discussion of Salander and her fractious relationship with her sister Camilla, who was informed that Lisbeth was violent and mentally ill. They talked about their spectacular fight. It’s known that she has attacked a paedophile and that Bjurman was Salander’s guardian. They also discuss the fact that Inspector Bublanski considers that Bjurman raped Salander – news that astonishes Gullberg. He is told that Bjurman had a tattoo across his belly which read: ‘I am a sadistic pig, a pervert and a rapist’. Gullberg shows at this point an unusual streak of black humour: ‘Zalachenko’s daughter… You know what? I think you ought to recruit her for the section.’

Ironically, these enemies of Salander are prepared to accept the truth of this incident – a fairly unusual happening given the reluctance on the part of any establishment figures to believe that Salander is anything but the violent sociopath she is portrayed as. Gullberg and his associates discuss the fact that Bjurman made a contract with Zalachenko, hoping to get rid of the man’s daughter. The Russian, of course, had good reason to hate Lisbeth, and he gave the contract to the hulking Niedermann.

At this point, Larsson takes us back to a situation which is both threatening and fraught with a certain black humour. Salander is now fully
compos mentis
and is discussing her condition with the doctors. She learns that her father (‘the old bastard’) is down the hall – and realises that the scraping sound she heard was that of his crutches. Zalachenko has made it perfectly clear to Gullberg that unless the whole situation involving his hated daughter is resolved, he will crack the section wide open by talking to the media. They realise that he will have to be offered something.

Interestingly, Gullberg and his colleague Sandberg now consider the real problem is Zalachenko, not Salander (who they feel they can handle). They begin to examine the other people involved in the case, including the prosecutor Ekström and the policeman Bublanski. They note the fact that the policewoman in the investigation, Sonja Modig, is something of a special case, as is the ‘tough customer’ Anderson, who was sent by Bublanski to arrest Björck. Realising that the stage management of the affair is now getting ever more complex, Gullberg finally discusses with his colleagues the troublesome journalist Blomkvist, the man who submitted Björck’s report to the police. They are aware that Salander is somehow the link between everyone, but come to no conclusions.

Larsson now details for the reader the complex strategy used by Gullberg and his associates to deal with a convoluted situation. Dissenters from the view that Larsson justifies the immense amount of attention that has been paid to him have pointed to this section of the book as needlessly complicated. But aficionados know that nothing here is overcomplicated for its own sake – all of these elements have to be put into place so that the various resolutions will have sufficient dramatic weight. One element of the plan is to bug everyone connected with
Millennium
: Berger (even though Erika has left the magazine), Blomkvist and his lawyer sister Giannini.