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This is an imagining of fiction as seen through eyes of a person
who identifies with her favorite character.
Previously posted in serial form
The Millennium offices, Tuesday morning, sometime after the events of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest...
"You seem to forget how much we agree lately,” the girl said.
Lisbeth Salander sat on the tall couch, her legs dangling like some school girl, looking anything but, as her attire was decidedly on the darker side of Goth. Her pants might have been called dungarees at one time, black denim with tarnished rivets and folded up cuffs. The jacket and shirt underneath almost seemed to melt together in a blend of black jersey and the same black denim of her pants.
The only change in her appearance seemed to be the red locks that slowly overtook her black dye job, leaving her looking prettier than she’d ever believe, much less acknowledge. Perhaps a long-entrenched habit of looking off-putting for safety’s sake, but life had taught her that even odd girls can be preyed upon.
“He’s so far under the radar, I’m surprised that even you were able to ferret out this,” Mikael pointed to the folder she had given him.
“More like weasel.” She stared at the folder as if she could see the photos it held.
“Not as bad as a lot of guys like him.” He glanced at the folder and shrugged,
“Fuck. It’s not what he does. It’s what he enables. He gets a lot of money and they…” She paused, once again visualizing the pictures. She’d never admit the eidetic talent since it left her feeling set apart in an almost pariah-like way. But her true curse was that just like the written word, images were never forgotten, and could all-too-easily be recalled. To categorize the pictures as gruesome would be a sadly decided understatement.
“He is repulsive, but he can be turned. I am thinking of ways…” Lizbeth shook a bit as a draft from the air conditioner almost swept through the office.
“You can be cruel at times.”
“Never so much as for men like him,” she said with a glare.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a half frown.
“I didn’t mean to be judgmental.’” He continued. She nodded and waved him off.
“Kalle fucking Blomqvist judgmental?” She smiled at the mostly abandoned epithet.
“Fucking Justice never seems to keep up with injustice. I have no room for forgiveness on behalf of anyone else. And I… I just know that these girls are not ready to offer anything. If Lundquist dies a painful death in his sleep it still would not be fair, but I would be satisfied, so yes, Mikael. I can be cruel.”
She shed invisible tears whenever she thought of the pain the helpless endured. No longer helpless herself, she vowed almost daily to keep very short, if still very vindictive, accounts. The huge change internally was no longer only motivated by her commonality with the abused, but born more and more from empathy for their sake alone…
Pequannock, New Jersey, Tuesday morning...
“Andy?” The offices in the daydream faded away, replaced by a fairly mundane living room filled with mismatched furniture and piles of recently packed moving cartons.
“Yes?” The voice was anything but indifferent.
“Your father will be by in twenty minutes.”
“It’s not fair,” he sighed.
“No such thing as fair, Andy.”
“Even with the move tomorrow I have to spend today with HIM?”
“Your uncles will be here later to load the truck, and you’re coming to the new place right off the bus after school.” Gabriella smiled. He could not understand how his mother did not hate his father after the brutal treatment he inflicted upon her.
“I still say fuck him, Mom.” It was painful for so many reasons. Between feeling helpless to protect his mother and the frustrating way the judge treated her and him during the custody hearing, Andy was left almost powerless.
He glanced at the worn cover of the graphic novel that lay open and face down on one of the packing cartons. The only thing he shared with the girl in the book was his slight body and decided preference for the color black.
“Hate will get us nowhere, sweetie.” He cringed at the endearment. Sweet had to mean weak, didn’t it? He had to be tough, didn’t he? Especially if his father learned everything about him before next Thursday.
He would at least be free to avoid his father, since seventeen was destined to be a hallmark that went far beyond his third year in the accelerated program at NYU. He looked down, as if he could see through his black tee shirt to the changes underneath.
“We have to tell him.” She noticed his stance and held her hands apart and out in a gesture that confused him.
“No…. not yet.” He crossed his arms in front of him; an odd if understandable mixture of defiance and self-protection.
“The court ordered the meeting for Wednesday afternoon, Honey.” He shook his head slightly. What would family court look like if he showed up all in black with multiple piercings and the raccoon-like eyes. The girl in the book proved her case by being exactly what everyone expected.
“And lighten up a bit with the eyeliner. You can be exactly who you are without being provocative,” she teased. Gabriella walked to the carton where the book lay. Picking it up, she smiled and looked down at herself.
“I have no intention of letting you be pushed around, but I’m also in this for my sake. She laughed softly as she pushed her hand over the top of her hair, feeling the short nap that matched her son’s.
“I think all black but maybe only the nose thingy and maybe just three studs in each ear.”
“We tell him at the hearing, Andy. Everything.” She kissed his forehead.
“I don’t want you ever to fear anyone. He may be your father, and we don’t want to spend life hating him.” She blew out a breath.
“But you owe him nothing. And listen. This is very important. You have no reason to be ashamed for your feelings. He failed, but I know you still love him, even if he will never be respected or liked in our four walls. I still love the man I knew when we were your age. But I don’t feel I need to welcome someone who disrespects and hurts us. We feel how we feel, and that’s okay.” Her cell phone rang.
“Yes? What? Fine.” She forced a smile, since the call was infuriating and welcome at the same time. Andy nodded.
“He’s got to work this weekend? What a fucking surprise,” he said with his own forced smile. Disappointment always seemed to be the confusing part of his relationship with his Dad. His father made it a point to ignore commitments and Andy always remained a profound disappointment to him, regardless of his need to please. He put his hand to his face.
“Oh, honey.” Gabriella pulled him closer.
“No, Mom.” Andy pulled away and walked to his room. She pushed the urge to swear aside and looked above as she spoke in an almost ashamed whisper.
“If you’re real? Please? Help us.”
Sweden...
You can’t forget, I know,” Mikael said as he stared at the folder.
But you of all people need no extra incentive to help these girls. Maybe don’t read the whole file?”
“Fuck.” She stubbed her cigarette out and downed the last of her now tepid coffee. She hated when he focused on her talents. Just give her the job and either help or get out of the way. Any recognition of strength seemed to have the opposite effect of what he intended, leaving her to doubt and even worse, self-reflection.
“Okay, Lisbeth. Indifference it is. Let me know if there’s anything you need?” He shook his head. She had resources he could only imagine,and she pushed away emotional support as well.
“I…. I know you care. Let’s just leave it at that?” He nodded at her request and stood up.
“I can at least get you some fresh coffee?” The brush against humor was lost as she nodded without looking up from the folder...
New Jersey...
Luck or providence or just his father’s predictability? Whichever, the court hearing came and went with his father’s lawyer requesting a new date. Andy didn’t matter or at the very least, turning seventeen rendered the protracted custody issue moot. Gabriella made enough in her free-lancing that support had been a non-issue, and the extra schooling was free courtesy of a federal grant.
The boy held the girl, kissing her neck. She smiled and grabbed his left hand. A squeeze without comment left him perplexed and her frustrated. Quiet and detached didn’t quite work for her like her hero and she relented, stepping back into her own world.
“Do you really care for me, Jackie?” The boy redoubled his efforts, almost ignoring her clasp as he moved down her neck. She realized his demonstration not only confirmed that he cared but defined finally what his care meant to them both.
“We can kiss all you want,” Jackie, but we’re not getting anywhere. Did her expectations dovetail with the stereotypes? She had to be a girl since girls want more than sex, right? But her on-again/off-again relationship with Jackie’s cousin Ellen kicked that notion to the curb.
Andy was a girl simply because that how things were wired. She was left-handed, with bi-color eyes, red hair, and had an almost savant-like understanding of nearly everything except computers, which ruined her connection with Lizbeth Salander until she realized that her identification was with THE GIRL’S strength and sense of justice. Almost her anti-anti-hero in a way, since her passion and compassion drove her ideas of self, and not what she did or didn’t do.
“I got a paper I have to finish before Friday,” he said as he stood up abruptly. She was seventeen and he was eighteen and on his way for the summer to Stockholm, ironically. He WAS a good fuck, almost like Kalle ‘fucking’ Blomqvist. And it was almost legal in their state, depending upon how a judge might rule. But unlike her literary doppelganger, Andy did not have feelings for Jackie. The extent of her attachment was that she liked the sex and didn’t mind that they never would get beyond that.
“Let me know how that turns out?” She stood and kissed him full on the lips. He smiled and turned, almost stumbling awkwardly. If she didn’t mind being used, who was he to argue?
“Sure thing,” he said as he got into his Wrangler. A moment later he was gone. She tried to be like THE GIRL, but it doesn’t really say in the books that Lizbeth NEVER cried.
“Fuck…” She muttered. It wasn’t heartbreaking that Jackie didn’t love her. She began to cry because she didn’t love herself. The cinematographers, especially from the Swedish version, seemed to show the HINT of tears almost sparingly like an emotional ration. Was Andy anything like THE GIRL in the books and shows? Or was that just one more thing to pretend. Was she even a girl? She wiped her face with her hand, smearing the running black around her eyes. She walked up the porch steps and into the house.
Sweden...
“….No fucking strings,” the girls almost said it together as they nestled. Lisbeth seemed to be more comfortable with caresses that led to nowhere rather than the sex that was occasionally distant if still warm. A friendship that didn’t quite get all the way out of the bedroom but did go beyond fucking like rabbits.
“Thank you,” the girl said as Lisbeth played with a dark shock of hair that fell across the girl’s eyes.
“You’re welcome,” Lisbeth simply said before settling back. A few minutes later they both were asleep…
New Jersey...
Andy walked slowly down the hall, hoping to avoid her mother. Her efforts failed as Gabriella walked up from behind. She wrapped her arms around Andy.
“It’s okay, Baby.” Andy felt lost. And scared.
“He…” Andy stammered.
Gabriella had not been comfortable with Jackie, but she wasn’t angry. With so much going on in Andy’s life, any relationship was bound to get complicated, but a non-committal one, especially with an older boy, did not help at all. And neither Jackie nor Andy had begun with any idea that things wouldn’t work. They just expected it would end. Andy began to cry.
“We’re gonna be okay. Just not today.” While Andy was on the verge of actually envisioning the reality of the someday aspects of her mother’s words, the cold truth of the immediate hit her hard, and she sobbed. Not a girl friend. Not a girl? Not THE GIRL. Just what was Andy?
But really, it wasn’t all about what Andy was. It was all about who Andy was. And the next few days would help Andy discover the answer that would forge a lifetime of definition...
Oh I’m sure
No harm will come to you no more
Cause I find myself in your hands
Don’t you be so hard on yourself
A few weeks later in Wharton, New Jersey…
The room was plain, almost Spartan. Andy had acquiesced and added an old grayish-brown leather love seat.
“Now that we’ve moved in, you need a place of your own that’s more than just for sleeping,” Gabriella had encouraged. Andy was seeing Ellen more frequently, and while both had declared a moratorium on sex, cuddling seemed to be strengthening their relationship. An amalgam existed of Andy’s connection with THE GIRL and her need to be in her own world where she at least had a say in what she wanted. After months of sex with Jackie, she realized she had been expecting of Ellen exactly what she realized Jackie demanded of her.
“Andy?” Gabriella called from the kitchen. A few moments later Andy had wended her way through the still unpacked boxes. Gabriella smiled and patted the chair next to hers at the table. While her expression was inviting, her body language almost seemed to scream ‘warning!’
“You want some coffee?” She pointed Andy in the general direction of the newly-purchased coffee maker sitting on the counter. After a few seconds Andy was seated with mug in hand and a fearful grimace on her face. He glanced at the papers on the table.
“The judge…. He ruled on a new petition.”
“Dad can’t…” She stammered.
“Because of your diagnosis, the judge doesn’t consider you to be emancipated.”
“That’s not…”
“Fair?” Gabriella asked.
“Not scientific. I’m not delayed,” Andy preached to the one-woman choir in her emotional balcony. She hated that any discussion seemed to include her as-nebulously- undefined ‘disorder.’ Autistic screamed FREAK, which was not only ignorant but hurtful to a girl already dealing with a world of neglect and sorrow.
Almost like THE GIRL, she was seen more for what her peculiarities helped her accomplish rather than being seen just as another girl with issues and strengths and weaknesses like any other kid her age.
“Poppa George is pretty sure this won’t stick,” Gabriella said, referring to her father George Patrillo, Andy’s attorney grandfather.
“But…”
“Until we can get this fixed, your father…”
“No,” Andy stood up and scaled the half-empty coffee mug across the kitchen, shattering against the far wall. Gabriella resisted the frustrating temptation to remind Andy of how such behavior might, however erroneously, confirm the judge’s opinion.
“Fuck… Maybe we can get Dr. Chung to come up with Andipatrillo Syndrome. Or maybe Pretty-much Distracted Disorder,” the girl shook where she stood, crying loudly. Gabriella stood up and hugged the girl.
She didn’t have the heart to tell Andy that her father was demanding full custody, or that the judge was a personal friend and abuse enabler of her ex’s side of the family.
“We WILL be okay!” She said it with as much strength she could muster, but in a minute both Patrillo women were weeping without care. Time enough in just a short while to fight, but in that moment, their tears were not only from outrage but from a commonality that Gabriella had long ago recognized but now was apparent to Andy. She had things to deal with. She had issues to overcome, perhaps only a bit more than her neurotypical friends. But now Andy was finally able to know for certain that she indeed was a girl….
Stockholm...
Never win and never lose
There’s nothing more to choose
Between the right and wrong
Nothing lost and nothing gained
Still things aren’t the same
Between you and me
“Just what is it I can do” Mikael waved to get Lizabeth’s attention. She raised her head slightly and smiled.
“A Happy Meal at one time, Mikke, but maybe just a beer from the fridge?” She lowered her head, not waiting for a response. A moment later he reappeared with a bottle and a small glass of beer. He placed it carefully away from the computer but still within reach.
“Oooh. A glass. Nice touch of elegance.” She returned her attention to the laptop and spat out a curse.
“Fucker Lundquist has some prick judge covering his ass!” She reached blindly for the beer, knocking the glass over. She stood up and grabbed a newspaper, and quickly blotted the beer. Mikael held back, reluctant to invade where uninvited. She turned and revealed a face struggling between sadness and rage.
“Just like my fucking father. How many girls?” She fell prey to her own curse as the faces of the girls from the folder flashed before her eyes. Mikael moved cautiously and held his arms open just a bit.
She stepped close and accepted the proffered hug. Mikael went to stroke her hair, but there was always the risk of being too kind with Lizbeth. A few moments later, she pulled back and wiped her face with her sleeve. Mikael retrieved another beer from the fridge and handed it to her.
“I should leave you to this,” Mikael said, pointing to the laptop.
“I changed my mind. Thai. Next block over.” He nodded and she actually blew him a kiss. The vestiges of attraction still occasionally inserted themselves even as their professional relationship was waxing. A moment later he was gone.
“Let’s see, Judge Fuckingbastard? What do you like to watch?” The shadow program quickly revealed the Honorable Judge Anton Povelsson’s search history, leaving Salander downing the remainder of the beer in semi-euphoric relief...
Wharton
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine
“Andy? You okay?” The petite girl sat on the leather couch, staring at the mostly sleeping form of her girlfriend.
“I don’t know what to do, El…” She sighed. Ellen hopped off the couch and lay down on the bed.
“No, El.” The words were soft; a request rather than a rebuke. Ellen rubbed Andy’s back.
“I know. I just figured since I could use a hug, you could as well?” The closer the date for the hearing became, the more vulnerable Andy felt. And the back rub did nothing to help her resist. She turned to Ellen and before long each was crying enough to send a small river of mascara onto the cream colored bedspread below.
Later...
“Your Grandfather has a few ideas, but he needs some help.” Gabriella winked, but not at Andy. Ellen looked up from the game on her laptop and waved her left hand.
“Just let me get through this….” She paused as the screen seemed to glow like a kaleidoscope.
“Level. Whatcha need?” She smiled broadly It was no secret that Andy was disappointed that her gifting did not include a mastery of the internet, something that her Net-savant girlfriend practically oozed.
Andy was, however, destined to become the next great paleontologist, if her professors at NYU were on target. Nevertheless, Gabriella paused and pointed to The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest DVD lying on Andy’s desk.
Andy raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what her mother was thinking. Gabriella caught the expression and laughed softly.
"Like Anneke tells Lisbeth just before they go to court, 'Var bara dig själv!'" Andy tilted her head in question u ntil Gabriella continued,
"It means 'just be yourself,' babe."
Lisbeth’s apartment…
If Mimmi Wu was anything to Lisabeth, she was a constant support without the accompanying guilt attached to Lisabeth’s relationship with Mikael. It just was what it was, with zero strings attached, including heartstrings. She rolled over and nibbled Lizabeth’s ear, evoking an uncharacteristic coo.
Sex had almost been a bulwark against any invasion of real emotion, but the cracks in the wall were growing; certainly not enough for a torrent, but with enough relief for an oddly-welcome attachment that wandered occasionally away from the physical.
“You want me to go?” Mimmi asked as she sat up.
“Actually, no?”
Lisabeth was surprised by her reply. Her worlds seldom collided, but in those recent times, life had gotten violent for those around her. Mimi’s continued presence after that helped Lizabeth see that Task-Salander and Purely-Physical-Salander could actually co-exist.
Of course, she did manage to fling a book past Mikael’s head when he talked about self-integration. Whatever was going on, Lisabeth was content with whatever changes in her might come, but without any explanation. Too many people for too long tried to figure her out when all she wanted was just to be herself.
“Maybe order in Pizza?” She leaned back and drew Mimi into a very long kiss. For a variety of reasons, the night would prove to be highly satisfying...
Zelda Zonk Hairdressers, Jefferson Township, New Jersey…
“We don’t get much call for this, but I just love it…” The stylist tapped the rat tail comb against her cheek and smiled at the girl in the mirror. Not as long as she’d have preferred, but the hair was definitely going to attract attention, The best way to get seen for who she was demanded dressing exactly how she might in her monthly on-campus visits to the city.
“Dr. Patrillo, I presume?” Gabriella sat down in the vacant styling chair to Andy’s right, pushing it around in a circle like a little girl. Gone were her dark makeup and clothing, replace by modest makeup and attire more suited to a Sunday School teacher than a freelance and free spirit journalist.
Better that she appear just as a contrast to Andy’s almost over-the-top punky Goth look. Ellen, however, almost looked like a twin to Lizabeth save for pink spiky hair instead of black. In for a penny?
“I sent a copy to Poppa George and one to the guy at the courthouse. Here’s another copy, but it’s in the Cloud just in case, okay?” Gabriella stepped close and hugged Ellen, leaving Andy feeling almost left out. Ellen turned around and walked straight to Andy’s chair and kissed her. She actually hummed a few bars from the Star Wars theme before adding, “For Luck.”
Gabriella pointed to the exit and spoke.
“It’s nine. The hearing is at 11, so we have plenty of time, but I want to be sitting in court when your father walks in.”
“You still don’t hate him, do you?” Andy sighed, but shook her head.
“Why can’t I hate him, Mom? I… I really want to!”
“Because you don’t have it in you. And I thank whatever god… “She paused. It wasn’t a wave of new-found religion so much as a small hope in a long forgotten faith.
“I thank God for that. And I am so proud of you.” She half-smiled before opening the salon door. As the girls approached the exit, she laughed softly and spoke.
“Let’s go kick some ass?”
The office of Nina Twardoska, SVT -1..
The woman sat at her desk with her office door closed. She was about to get up to leave for home when the alert for her email chimed. She opened it up to reveal four new emails, the first two of which were messages from her realtor.
She shook her head and decided to open them up on her home laptop. The third was from her ex-husband, which she immediately deleted. The most recent was from 'LundquistLiar", and the accompanying subject line said ‘LINK to secure website.” She opened the message and discovered the following:
“The Lundquist matter can be resolved by accessing this website through a burner phone in your station mailbox. DO NOT open the link with any other device.” She stared at the screen and noticed the link at the bottom of the message sans the dot.com suffix. She copied the address on a post-it and walked to the outer office where she discovered a near tablet-sized android phone with the password ‘getthebastard’ written on a piece of paper taped to the back.
She quickly reached the website in question. The background was black, with the title, Hell in white. Nina hesitated until she remembered that only the burner phone in her hand was online with the site.
She moved the cursor over the internal link and tapped once. In mere seconds, photos of nude teenage girls were revealed, albeit heavily edited. A popup announced that the originals could be found on at least four computers owned by David Lundquist, CFO, NordeaBank, Denmark, and Judge Anton Povelsson.
Accompanying the corresponding URLs were links to three shell businesses owned by Lundquist with interests in a least two ongoing civil projects whose import clearance hearings were presided over by Judge Povelsson. The screen continued to open up windows that displayed documentation to back up the information about the two men. She paused and blew out a breath in near relief.
Nina had only used the words twice in her life. First, in anger and hurt when she learned that her husband was cheating on her with at least three women across Sweden and Denmark. The second time was actually an almost an ecstatic utterance when her attorney informed her that her now ex had actually invalidated the pre-nup the insisted she sign, leaving her with only a nose for news as a reason to keep working.
She stared at the screen, laughed once, and shook her head and said,
“Helvete!”
And from only sixty or so meters away, a solitary figure sat on the Harley parked across the street from the station. She looked up at the office building and tilted her head at the phone in her hand, speaking in a near whisper,
”Jävla ja!”
I still hear your voice at night
When I turn out the light
And try to settle down
But there's nothing I can do
'Cause I can't live without you
Any way at all
What is wrong at the end of the day
What is really wrong when no one dares to say
You know you’re wrong when there’s only one right
But what is wrong when right is out of sight
Morris County Family Court, Morristown, NJ, soon thereafter...
A tall reddish-gray haired man sat at the front left table facing the Judge’s bench. George Patrillo sighed, hoping the plan would work. He wasn’t afraid of the judge or his daughter’s ex. But even when armed with the truth, it sometimes depended upon what the folks in charge determined was right or wrong, and not the truth itself.
“Pop?” Gabriella touched her father’s arm. He nodded silently. They could not have prepared more for what Andy and she faced. The thought had crossed her mind only briefly to disappear, but Tommy Bertolli would just ask the judge to swear out a warrant. George noticed her unease and spoke.
“Andy’s friend found enough to stop this if, and I emphasize if the county attorney is willing to help? I can handle Tommy and the Judge.”
He forced a smile. If what they had told the attorney wasn’t enough along with the information Ellen had emailed to the woman, Andy would at the very least have her life upended as her father forced shared custody. He looked past Gabriella at the slight but decidedly eye catching figure at the other end of the table.
“Poppa Gee?” the girl held her hand close to her body but waved. He got up and walked around, kneeling at the table to gain direct eye contact with his granddaughter.
“Your father will not win, mio bambina.” George was born in Brooklyn, but grew up in Boonton in a household that spoke French and Italian as well as English. It was important for the girl to hear endearments in her great grandparents’ tongue, if only to balance the invectives and curses sent her way and at her mother by her Soprano wannabe father.
“Girl, Poppa Gee? I’m just a boy,” she said as she began to cry. Sobs might come later; her crying was soft and quiet, but her face was a mask of despair.
“No, Andy. You are my granddaughter, no matter what your father says with his lies and meanness. I already talked to the county lawyer on the phone, and she understands and agrees, even if she’s worried about what we’ve shown. I know it’s hard to be strong, so when the judge and your father’s lawyer ask you questions, look at me and your Mom, okay?” He stood up, leaned over, and kissed her on the top of her head, almost messing up the spiky display of her hair.
“Bona fortuna, Poppa Gee,” Ellen said from the front row, her words belying her Asian features. She pointed to her laptop and the implied internet-provided translation for ‘good luck.’
“Thank you, Ellen.” He replied. He went to continue, but felt Andee pull George’s jacket sleeve. She pointed to the back of the courtroom as her father entered along with a very smartly dressed lawyer.
“I will....” She put her head down. He leaned close and spoke softly.
“I know this is very hard, but whatever your father pulls, just take a deep breath and look at us. We’ll be your strength,” he repeated. Noting her all-black attire, he added,
“If anyone asks you any questions about how you are dressed or anything that makes you uncomfortable, just answer the way we talked about, okay?” She nodded slowly. He touched his chest.
“Repeat after me, just like this.” He motioned and she raised her gaze, gaining eye contact.
“I am who I am, Sir.”
“I am who I am, Sir?” she repeated.
“Perfect! Just remember? Your Mom and I love you very much. Nana Patrillo is watching from above and she loved you. Okay, mio cara bambina?” The endearment might have sent her spinning into uncontrolled sobbing but for the tap on the shoulder by Ellen Lin, who pointed to the ubiquitous laptop beside her.
“It’s uploaded,” she pointed over her shoulder to the county attorney’s open laptop. Even as she spoke, Andy saw the attorney’s eyes widen as the woman looked back and forth at her laptop and at Tommy Bertolli and his lawyer. She gazed directly at everyone sitting at Andy’s table and seemed to nod...
SVT-1 Studios, Stockholm...
Nina Twardoska sat at the head of the conference table. Not ordinarily take-charge, she almost cringed as her boss shook his head in near disbelief.
“I know and trust you, but I have to ask this question, you understand? “ Gunnar Nillsson was just being thorough. They had been going over the almost mountain of damning information in front of the production team.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Nina went to speak and Lisa Olsen shook her finger at Gunnar.
“If Fiske or Samuelsson handed this to you, you’d be out in the office with a cake and candles.”
“Maybe?” Gunnar nodded and went to continue but the thin, graying man at the opposite end of the table spoke.
“Fiske would have posted this too soon and I would have accidentally deleted the file before we verified this rotting fish,” Samuelsson laughed.
“Besides, I’m a Type II diabetic and I can’t really eat cake anymore.” Gunnar shook his head.
“I think even I would doubt this if someone else dumped this in my lap,” Nina said to Lisa and added.
“But thank you.”
“Mitt noje” Lisa said.
“So we owe our thanks to whom?” Gunnar asked in general.
“Well, the note I got the other day said to call Blomqvist at Millennium,” Nina pointed to her laptop.
“He is adamant about not revealing his source,” She looked around at everyone, expecting they already understood.
“I don’t blame him after what happened to him when he went after Wennerstrom. This mess is enough to get people killed.” Nina looked around again. Fiske and Marta Anders nodded.
“Knulla bastardna!,” Gunnar said calmly. Nina and Lisa nodded as well and Samuelsson, who was never given to profanity said at last in a very measured, calm voice,
“Ja! Knulla bastardna! .”
Morristown…
It was twenty before eleven, and Tommy Bertolli got up, ignoring his lawyer’s obvious protest. He walked over and stood in front of Andy and Gabriella. Andee tried to look away, but Tommy merely walked around to the end of the table.
“Andrew?” He stopped and turned his attention to Gabriella.
“My son, Babe.” She hated that he used the epithet, but her anger really rose in her throat at the misnaming of their daughter. She went to stand up, but George’s hand gently patted her arm as if to say, “I’ve got this.”
“A restraining order has been a waste of time, Thomas, so I’ll just say this once.” He leaned across the table but whispered softly enough that Tommy stepped closer. Expecting a threat, he scowled in defiance. George smiled back at him.
“Two words, Thomas? Superb Investments.” Tommy’s face went white. George sat down quietly and grabbed the legal pad sitting in his open briefcase. He took a green Sharpie and drew a smiley face along with the words.
“Buono giornata!”
Millennium offices…
“I see you got a new Cappuccino machine,” the voice came from the doorway. Lisbeth was dressed in black vinyl pants along with a matching jacket over what could be seen as a nod to color; a bright pink tank top with the words “I wouldn’t, If I were you!” written in shiny purple letters.
“I tried going without coffee for a while.” Mikael shook his head.
“I tried that with sex for a few days myself,” Lisbeth half-smiled.
“I managed to give you up, but we’ll always have Paris,” she quipped.
“They’re close to running the story, Mikke,” she pointed to the widescreen television over the credenza on the far wall next to the Cappuccino machine.
“Lundquist is clueless. His IT people are the best, I’ll give him that.” She said as she lit a cigarette. She offered one to Mikael, but he shook his head ‘no.’
“But not good enough, thank god,” he said.
“You believe that?” Lisbeth once had absolutely no confidence in anything or anyone other than herself. Even if she had no faith, her shell had softened enough to trust others, although that infant trust was still swathed in protective caution.
“No? Maybe? I do believe that it wasn’t a coincidence that you were dragged into the Wennerstrom thing. I guess I do have faith in people, though.” Mikael looked away, fearing the smallest of glares, and missed Lisbeth’s very slight smile….
Morristown…
What is false when we can’t hear no more
And there is nothing to cover for
What is wrong in this old wasted game
Right and wrong be one and the same
“All rise,” the Clerk spoke. A nearly empty courtroom hardly merited the announcing of the judge’s arrival and stood in unison as the judge entered the courtroom, but that’s what they do. Judge Albert Condorso sat down and glanced at the papers on the bench and half-smiled.
“Let’s see. Ms. Patrillo is contesting the ruling of this court regarding the emancipation of her son.” His expression seemed to ask ‘Is that correct?”
“I see you’re represented by your father, Ms. Patrillo? How are you, George?”
“Well, Your Honor?” George said the words carefully, trying successfully to hide the disdain he had for his former classmate.
“To begin, you’ll note that Family Court had previously declared that Andee Patrillo can and must be considered female, and as such is the litigants’ daughter?” Judge Condorso frowned at the copy of the order attached to the day’s filing.
“Nevertheless, the issue before us today is the question of medical care and custody for the boy,” he said, ignoring George’s statement.
“Mr. Bertolli makes quite a compelling case for full custody based on medical reports that document inadequate care and attention by Ms. Patrillo.” He glanced in Tommy’s direction, expecting a knowing smile. Tommy’s lawyer was animated, speaking to him with his face obscured by his hand.
“Andee Patrillo is not only receiving adequate care, but she is excelling in school,” George interjected.
“Special education is hardly excelling, George,”
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but Ms. Patrillo's being diagnosed with a condition within the autistic-spectrum has been addressed with comprehensive support and instruction. That support has enabled Ms. Andee Patrillo to not only succeed in advanced courses at her high school, but she has been in an accelerated program at NYU.” George turned slightly and smiled at Andee.
“She is slated to graduate high school this spring and complete her program at NYU at the end of the summer.” He paused and suppressed a grin.
“A Master’s degree in Paleontology.”
“That’s all well and good, but Mr. Bertolli has provided expert medical reports that indicate the boy…”
“Excuse me, Your Honor, but your use of male pronouns not only ignores the medical opinion of Ms. Patrillo’s psychiatrist and primary physician, but in and of itself violates the court order.
“Now see here, George!”
“Mr. Bertolli’s so-called experts have not even seen Andee nor consulted with the medical team who crafted her treatment. None of those doctors who wrote the opinion supporting Mr. Bertolli’ position specializes in Andee’s issues. I’m confident that your ruling will be overturned. In fact, I believe our chances are….superb..”
George allowed himself a grin as Judge Albert Condorso shifted uneasily. He turned his focus on Tommy’s attorney, who mirrored the judge’s nervous movement.
“A…. May I take a few moments to consult with my client, Your Honor?” Judge Condorso nodded and spoke.
“Yes. We’ll reconvene at two?” A few moments later George looked up to find the county attorney standing at the table, her face a mixture of slight dread and great satisfaction.
“Carla Prohaska,” she said offering her hand to Andee.
“I need to talk with your Mom and your attorney for a few minutes, but I wanted to say hello and say that I’m on your side. “ Andee smiled nervously and stammered.
“You…” She looked down at her attire. Black leather all over with orange Sketchers that matched the orange highlights in her spiky hair.
“Yes. Nice, by the way,” Carla pulled her hair back from her left ear, pointing to three studs similar to Andee’s. The girl rose and stepped around the stile separating the gallery and sat down next to Ellen, leaving George and Gabriella to speak with Ms. Prohaska.
“I read the attachments in the email,” Carla shook her head.
“It’s now about more than just your daughter.” Gabriella frowned as Carla held up her hand in caution.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean how that sounded. This judge has been making rulings that make no sense, but he’s pretty much been within the law.” George smiled at Carla.
“But?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“His rulings appear objective until we find,” she used her hand in a broad gesture in the direction of her laptop.
“At least four of his recent rulings were on behalf of fathers who just happen to hold shares in a company Tommy Bertolli owns with a silent partner.”
“Albert Vincent Condorso.” George’s smile grew broader. Carla continued.
“Superb Investments. But you knew that already. I’ll be notifying the Judicial Review Board just as soon as this hearing is over, but I wanted to reassure you that no matter what the Judge decides today, we’ll be filing a brief in support of Andee’s emancipation.”
She waved to the two girls and smiled, mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ Gabriella noticed the expression and stepped closer to shake Carla’s hand, but the woman hugged her instead, leaving Gabriella feeling very awkward. Still, Gabriella managed to say quietly,
“Thank you.”
Lisbeth’s apartment…
Right rode away long ago
Before rescuing wrong from below
I might be mistaken, I know
But hey we need to be somewhat
“I know we never talk about it, but I…” Mimmi absentmindedly etched Lisbeth’s dragon tattoo with a fingernail.
“We’re okay, Meems.” A simple declaration, but just enough.
“It’s okay if you want me to… If you’d rather…” Mimmi smiled.
“Nope, I want you!” Lisbeth rolled over and fell into Mimmi.
Morristown…
Judge Albert Condorso returned to court just long enough to dismiss Tommy Bertolli’s petition after reversing his ruling regarding Andee’s custody. He did manage to leave his ruling intact denying Andee’s request for emancipation until after her twenty-second birthday. Thankfully, since Gabriella had not sought child-support, there remained no reason to deny Andee’s request for no contact with her father.
Stockholm…
Nina Twardoska allowed herself the slightest of satisfaction. Lisbeth had received an email to the anonymous webpage offering to give the ‘source’ credit, but she replied ‘No, thank you,’ without further comment. Nina suspected that her source probably also helped Mikael Blomqvist with the Wennerstrom affair, but Mikael remained mum, saying only that he had only a small but gratifying role by providing his source with timely cups of coffee.
Lindquist resigned his position at NordeaBank abruptly and just as suddenly disappeared. Judge Povelsson’s whereabouts were immediately known once his body was discovered in his Audi in the closed garage with the motor running.
The police were directed to three locations on the outskirts of Stockholm; two warehouses filled with printed and recorded kid porn and a small storage facility that held at least seventeen teenage girls waiting to be sent to god knows where throughout Sweden and elsewhere.
Frustratingly it would have to be just a beginning, since Lundquist and Povelsson were just two pieces of the horrific crimes throughout Scandinavia and beyond.
Millennium offices a few days later…
Erika Berger had just poured herself a mug of coffee when she noticed a slight figure backlit in the doorway by the hall light.
“Yes,” the young lady said with an odd smile. Erika noted the focus of the girl’s stare and poured a second mug of coffee, motioning for the girl to sit at the conference table. She eyed the girl up and down. A very attractive Dior suit, gray silk. Her hair was blond, pulled back in a smart-looking chignon.
“Nice look,” Erika said as Lisbeth accepted the mug.
“Just dropping by to say hello,” Lisbeth said, not looking up.
“Mikke isn’t here. He’s…”
“At SVT talking about a joint project,” Lisbeth said casually. It didn’t surprise Erika that Lisbeth knew exactly where Mikael Blomqvist was at that moment. She was, however, puzzled at Lisbeth’s presence at the office, especially in corporate ‘mufti.’ Lisbeth noticed Erika’s head tilt and answered the unasked question.
“This old thing? Just trying not to be too conspicuous.” Lisbeth looked down at her disguise and laughed.
“Let’s work together? Me? You? Mikke? Professional only? Well maybe more between you and him? I’m…”
“Attached? Miriam Wu?” Now it was Lisbeth’s turn to be surprised.
“Relax. Mikke thought you were distant but content? I cannot begin to figure out how to keep track of you, and frankly I wouldn’t dare.”
“Fear?” Lisbeth asked.
“Courtesy. And gratitude?” Erika shrugged her shoulders and Lisbeth raised her mug in toast.
“To courtesy,” Erika replied, to which Lisbeth added,
“To gratitude!”
“Tak!” Erika said at last as their mugs clinked together.
Wharton…
“I don’t mind still being a kid,” Andee said as Gabriella walked into the kitchen carrying a large Momma Maria’s Pizza box supporting a white bag filled with salads and Barbecue Chicken Wings.
“You’re a nearly emancipated adolescent stuck in the system for just a little bit longer, but Dr. Chung explained that the court is still trudging into the twenty-first century.”
“My mom and dad agree with me, Momma Gabi. You’re the best,” Ellen said as she opened the pizza box.
“Ooooh, Mushrooms,” the girl exclaimed. She took a swig from her Diet Mountain Dew and continued.
“I’m so glad things are working out for you two.”
Gabriella noticed that Andee hadn’t stopped staring at Ellen Lin; no mean feat considering Mushroom and Onion-topped Pizza was Andee’s favorite.
“We three, Piàoliang de nǚhái” Gabriella said, using her hand to gesture between Ellen and Andee and herself.
“Piàoliang de nǚhái? Yes, mom. Ellen is a very lovely girl.”
“Sì, lo sono. Andee! ,” Ellen said with a giggle as she grabbed another piece of pizza.
"Sono molto carina!”
Foolish, feeble-minded, wrong, and senseless
Right rode off long ago
There’s nothing more you need to know
There’s nothing more you need to know
Let‘s disagree 'cause wrong was made for you to be
Lisbeth Salander and other characters from the novels were created by Stieg Larsson. All other characters are the creation of this author and/or partly based on the Millennium Television Series; written by Rasmus Heisterberg, Nikolaj Arcel, Jonas Frykberg, and Ulf Rydberg
Falling, Catching...
Performed by the Composer
Agnes Obel
Close Watch
Words and music by John Cale
Performed by Agnes Obel
Avenue
Words and music by the performer
Agnes Obel
Artwork for title adapted from free-use publicity photos
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