All of a sudden Palmgren laughed. It sounded more like he was clearing his throat. He looked at Dr. Sivarnandan.

“He’s been to her apartment at least. Does the doctor think it would be possible to offer my guest a cup of coffee?”

“Certainly.” Dr. Sivarnandan got up to leave. He paused in the doorway to nod at Blomkvist.

“Alexander Zalachenko,” Palmgren said as soon as the door was closed.

“So you know that name?”

“Lisbeth told me the name. And I think it’s important that I tell this story to someone… should I happen to drop dead, which is all too possible.”

“Lisbeth? How would she know anything about his existence?”

“He is Lisbeth’s father.”

At first Blomkvist could not make out what Palmgren was saying. Then the words sank in.

“What the hell are you saying?”

“Zalachenko was some sort of a political refugee-I’ve never gotten the story quite straight, and Lisbeth was always tight-lipped about it. It was something she absolutely did not want to talk about.”

Her birth certificate. Father unknown.

“Zalachenko is Lisbeth’s father,” Blomkvist repeated aloud.

“On only one occasion in all the years I’ve known her did she tell me what happened. Here’s how I understood it-Zalachenko came here in the mid-seventies. He met Lisbeth’s mother in 1977, they had a relationship, and the result was two children.”

“Two?”

“Lisbeth and her twin sister Camilla.”

“Good God-there are two of her?”

“They’re very different. But that’s another story. Lisbeth’s mother’s name was in fact Agneta Sofia Sjölander. She was seventeen when she met Zalachenko. I don’t know anything else about how they met, but I gather she was quite a dependent young girl and easy prey for an older, more experienced man. She was impressed by him and probably head over heels in love with him. Zalachenko turned out to be anything but nice. I assume he was just after a willing woman and not much else. Naturally she fantasized about a secure future with him, but he wasn’t the least bit interested in marriage. They never did marry, but in 1979 she changed her name from Sjölander to Salander. That was, I suppose, her way of showing that they belonged together.”

“How do you mean?”

“Zala. Salander.”

“Jesus,” Blomkvist said.

“I started looking into the whole matter just before I fell ill. She had the right to take the name because her mother, Lisbeth’s grandmother, was actually named Salander. Then what happened was that Zalachenko proved himself to be a psychopath on a grand scale. He drank and savagely abused Agneta. As far as I know, this abuse went on throughout the girls’ childhood. As long as Lisbeth can remember, Zalachenko would turn up from time to time. Sometimes he would be gone for long periods, but then he was suddenly there again in the apartment on Lundagatan. And every time it was the same old story. He came there to have sex and to get drunk, and it ended with him abusing Lisbeth’s mother in various ways. Lisbeth told me things that indicated it was more than physical abuse. He carried a gun and was threatening, and there were elements of sadism and psychological terrorizing. I gather it only got worse as the years went on. Lisbeth’s mother spent a great part of the eighties living in fear.”

“Did he hit the children too?”

“No. Apparently he was totally uninterested in his daughters. He hardly even said hello to them. Their mother used to send them to their room when Zalachenko turned up, and they weren’t allowed to come out without permission. On one occasion he may have spanked Lisbeth or her sister, but that was mostly because they were irritating him or were somehow in the way. All the violence was directed towards their mother.”

“Jesus Christ. Poor Lisbeth.”

Palmgren nodded. “Lisbeth told me all this about a month before I had my stroke. It was the first time she had spoken openly about what had happened. I’d just decided that it was time to put an end to the absurd declaration of incompetence. Lisbeth is as smart as anyone I know, and I was prepared to take up her case again with the district court. Then I had the stroke… and when I woke up I was here.”

He waved at his confined quarters. A nurse knocked at the door and brought in coffee. Palmgren sat in silence until she left.

“There are some aspects of Lisbeth’s story that I don’t understand,” he said. “Agneta had been forced to go to the hospital dozens of times. I read her medical record. It was perfectly obvious that she was the victim of aggravated assault, and social welfare should have intervened. But nothing happened. Lisbeth and Camilla had to stay at the social emergency service whenever she sought care, but as soon as she was discharged she would go back home and it would start all over again. I can only interpret this as the collapse of the whole social safety net, and Agneta was too terrified to do anything but wait for her torturer. Then something happened. Lisbeth calls it All The Evil.’”

“What was it?”

“Zalachenko had been gone for several months. Lisbeth had turned twelve. She had apparently begun to think that he was gone for good. But he wasn’t, of course. One day he came back. First Agneta locked Lisbeth and her sister in their room. Then she and Zalachenko went to bed. And then he started hitting her. He enjoyed beating people. But this time it wasn’t two helpless little girls who were locked up… The twins reacted quite differently. Camilla was panic-stricken that someone would find out what was going on in their apartment. She repressed everything and made out that her mother was never beaten. When the abuse was over, Camilla would go in and hug her father and pretend that everything was fine.”

“Her way of protecting herself, no doubt.”

“Right. But Lisbeth was a whole different story. This time she interrupted the beating. She went into the kitchen and got a knife and stabbed Zalachenko in the shoulder. She stabbed him five times before he managed to take the knife away and punch her in the face. They weren’t deep wounds, it seems, but he was bleeding like a stuck pig and he ran off.”

“That sounds like Lisbeth.”

Palmgren laughed. “Yes, it does. Don’t ever fight with Lisbeth Salander. Her attitude towards the rest of the world is that if someone threatens her with a gun, she’ll get a bigger gun. That’s what frightens me about what’s going on right now.”

“So that was ‘All The Evil’?”

“No, no. Then two things happened. I can’t understand it. Zalachenko was wounded so badly that he had to go to the hospital. There should have been a police report.”

“But?”

“But as far as I could discover, there were absolutely no repercussions. Lisbeth remembers that a man came and talked with Agneta. She didn’t know what was said or who he was. And then her mother told her that Zalachenko had forgiven her everything.”

“Forgiven?”

“That was the expression she used.”

And suddenly Blomkvist understood.

Björck. Or one of Björck’s colleagues. It was about cleaning up after Zalachenko. Those fucking pigs. He closed his eyes.

“What is it?” Palmgren said.

“I think I know what happened. And someone is going to pay for this. But go on with the story.”

“Zalachenko was gone for several months. Lisbeth waited for him and made her preparations. She had played truant from school every single day to watch out for her mother. She was scared to death that Zalachenko would really hurt her. She was twelve and felt responsible for her mother, who did not dare to go to the police and couldn’t break it off with Zalachenko, or who perhaps did not understand the seriousness of the situation. But on the day Zalachenko finally turned up, Lisbeth was at school. She came home just as he was leaving the apartment. He didn’t say a word. He just laughed at her. Lisbeth went in and found her mother unconscious on the kitchen floor.”