Free The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson Page B

joined by people from outside who had come looking for shelter.
    After a while McBain came over to Salander and squatted down.
    “She’ll live.”
    Salander said nothing.
    “What happened?”
    “We found her beyond the wall on the beach.”
    “I was missing three people when I counted the guests down here in the cellar. You and the Forbes couple. Ella said that you ran off like a crazy person just as the storm got here.”
    “I went to get my friend George.” Salander nodded at Bland. “He lives down the road in a shack that can’t possibly still be standing.”
    “That was very brave but awfully stupid,” McBain said, glancing at Bland. “Did either of you two see the husband?”
    “No,” Salander said with a neutral expression. Bland glanced at her and shook his head.
    Ella tilted her head and gave Salander a sharp look. Salander looked back at her with expressionless eyes.
    Geraldine Forbes came to at around 3:00 a.m. By that time Salander had fallen asleep with her head on Bland’s shoulder.
    In some miraculous way, Grenada survived the night. McBain allowed the guests out of the cellar, and when dawn broke the storm had died away, replaced by the most torrential rain Salander had ever seen.
    The Keys Hotel would be needing a major overhaul. The devastation at the hotel, and all along the coast, was extensive. Ella’s bar beside the pool was gone altogether, and one veranda had been demolished. Windows had peeled off along the facade, and the roof of a projecting section of the hotel had bent in two. The lobby was a chaos of debris.
    Salander took Bland with her and staggered up to her room. She hung a blanket over the empty window frame to keep out the rain. Bland met her gaze.
    “There’ll be less to explain if we didn’t see her husband,” Salander said before he could ask any questions.
    He nodded. She pulled off her clothes, dropped them on the floor,and patted the edge of the bed next to her. He nodded again and undressed and crawled in beside her. They were asleep almost at once.
    When she awoke at midday, the sun was shining through cracks in the clouds. Every muscle in her body ached, and her knee was so swollen that she could hardly bend it. She slipped out of bed and got into the shower. The green lizard was back on the wall. She put on shorts and a top and stumbled out of the room without waking Bland.
    Ella was still on her feet. She looked dog-tired, but she had gotten the bar in the lobby up and running. Salander ordered coffee and a sandwich. Through the blown-out windows by the entrance she saw a police car. Just as her coffee arrived, McBain came out of his office by the front desk, followed by a uniformed policeman. McBain caught sight of her and said something to the policeman before they came over to Salander’s table.
    “This is Constable Ferguson. He’d like to ask you some questions.”
    Salander greeted him politely. Constable Ferguson had obviously had a long night, too. He took out a notebook and pen and wrote down Salander’s name.
    “Ms. Salander, I understand that you and a friend discovered Mrs. Richard Forbes during the hurricane last night.”
    Salander nodded.
    “Where did you find her?”
    “On the beach just below the gate,” Salander said. “We almost tripped over her.”
    Ferguson wrote that down.
    “Did she say anything?”
    Salander shook her head.
    “She was unconscious?”
    Salander nodded sensibly.
    “She had a nasty wound on her head.”
    Salander nodded again.
    “You don’t know how she was injured?”
    Salander shook her head. Ferguson muttered in irritation at her lack of response.
    “There was a lot of stuff flying through the air,” she said helpfully. “I was almost hit in the head by a plank.”
    “You injured your leg?” Ferguson pointed at her bandage. “What happened?”
    “I didn’t notice it until I got down to the cellar.”
    “You were with a young man.”
    “George Bland.”
    “Where does he live?”
    “In a shack