Armansky’s star researcher was a pale, anorexic young woman who had hair as short as a fuse, and a pierced nose and eyebrows. She had a wasp tattoo about an inch long on her neck, a tattooed loop around the biceps of her left arm and another around her left ankle. On those occasions when she had been wearing a tank top, Armansky also saw that she had a dragon tattoo on her left shoulder blade. She was a natural redhead, but she dyed her hair raven black. She looked as though she had just emerged from a week-long orgy with a gang of hard rockers.
Armansky was bewildered and also angry with himself for having so obviously misjudged her. He had taken her for stupid, maybe even retarded.
“Who was that woman visiting you over the weekend?” “Erika…She’s the editor in chief of Millennium.” “Your girlfriend?” “Not exactly. She’s married. I’m more a friend and occasional lover.” Cecilia Vanger hooted with laughter. “What’s so funny?” “The way you said that. Occasional lover. I like the expression.” Blomkvist took a liking to Cecilia Vanger. “I could use an occasional lover myself,” she said.
You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that these events were somehow related. There had to be a skeleton in one of their cupboards, and Salander loved hunting skeletons. Besides, she had nothing else on at the moment.