“Harriet disappeared sometime around 3:00 or shortly thereafter. These pictures give an impression of where certain people were at that time. That’s why I can eliminate a number of people from the list of suspects. For the same reason I can conclude that some people who were not in the photographs at that time must be added to the list of suspects.” “You didn’t answer my question about how you think the body was removed. I realise, of course, that there must be some plausible explanation. Some sort of common old illusionist’s trick.” “There are actually several very practical ways it could have been done. Sometime around 3:00 the killer struck. He or she presumably didn’t use any sort of weapon—or we would have found traces of blood. I’m guessing that Harriet was strangled and I’m guessing that it happened here—behind the wall in the courtyard, somewhere out of the photographer’s line of sight and in a blind spot from the house. There’s a path, if you want to take a shortcut, to the parsonage—the last place she was seen—and back to the house. Today there’s a small flower bed and lawn there, but in the sixties it was a gravelled area used for parking. All the killer had to do was open the boot of a car and put Harriet inside. When we began searching the island the next day, nobody was thinking that a crime had been committed. We focused on the shorelines, the buildings, and the woods closest to the village.” “So nobody was checking the boots of cars.” “And by the following evening the killer would have been free to get in his car and drive across the bridge to hide the body somewhere else.” “Right under the noses of everyone involved in the search. If that’s the way it happened, we’re talking about a cold-blooded bastard.” Vanger gave a bitter laugh. “You just gave an apt description of quite a few members of the Vanger family The entire room was faced with polished granite..” They continued their discussion over supper at 6:00. Anna served roast hare with currant jelly and potatoes. Vanger poured a robust red wine. Blomkvist still had plenty of time to make the last train. He thought it was about time to sum things up. “It’s a fascinating story you’ve been telling me, I admit it. But I still don’t know why you wanted me to hear it.” “I told you. I want to nail the swine who murdered Harriet. And I want to hire you to find out who it was.” “Why?” Vanger put down his knife and fork. “Mikael, for thirty-six years I’ve driven myself crazy wondering what happened to Harriet. I’ve devoted more and more of my time to it.” He fell silent and took off his glasses, scrutinising some invisible speck of dirt on the lens.  at Blomkvist. “To be completely honest with you, Harriet’s disappearance was the reason why gradually I withdrew from the firm’s management. I lost all motivation. I knew that there was a killer somewhere nearby and the worrying and searching for the truth began to affect my work.