Blomkvist wasted several days trying to identify the car with the AC plates. After a lot of trouble and finally by consulting a retired mechanic in Hedestad, he came to the conclusion that the car was a Ford Anglia, a model that he had never heard of before. Then he contacted a clerk at the motor vehicle department and enquired about the possibility of getting a list of all the Ford Anglias in 1966 that had a licence plate beginning AC3. He was eventually told that such an archaeological excavation in the records presumably could be done, but that it would take time and it was beyond the boundaries of what could be considered public information . Not until several days after Midsummer did Blomkvist get into his borrowed Volvo and drive north on the E4. He drove at a leisurely pace. Just short of the H?rn?sand Bridge he stopped to have coffee at the Vesterlund pastry shop.The next stop was Ume?, where he pulled into an inn and had the daily special. He bought a road atlas and continued on to Skellefte?, where he turned towards Norsj?. He arrived around 6:00 in the evening and took a room in the Hotel Norsj?. He began his search early the next morning. The Norsj? Carpentry Shop was not in the telephone book. The Polar Hotel desk clerk, a girl in her twenties, had never heard of the business.“Who should I ask?”clerk looked puzzled for a few seconds until her face lit up and she said that she would call her father. Two minutes later she came back and explained that the Norsj? Carpentry Shop closed in the early eighties. If he needed to talk to someone who knew more about the business, he should go and see a certain Burman, who had been the foreman and who now lived on a street called Solv?ndan Zero Moment Of Truth. Norsj? was a small town with one main street, appropriately enough called Storgatan, that ran through the whole community. It was lined with shops with residential side streets off it. At the east end there was a small industrial area and a stable; at the western end stood an uncommonly beautiful wooden church. Blomkvist noted that the village also had a Missionary church and a Pentecostal church. A poster on a bulletin board at the bus station advertised a hunting museum and a skiing museum. A leftover flyer announced that Veronika would sing at the fair-grounds at Midsummer. He could walk from one end of the village to the other in less than twenty minutes. ndan consisted of single-family homes and was about five minutes from the hotel. There was no answer when Blomkvist rang the bell. It was 9:30, and he assumed that Burman had left for work or, if he was retired, was out on an errand. His next stop was the hardware store on Storgatan. He reasoned that anyone living in Norsj? would sooner or later pay a visit to the hardware store. There were two sales clerks in the shop. Blomkvist chose the older one, maybe fifty or so Academic alliance. “Hi. I’m looking for a couple who probably lived in Norsj? in the sixties. The man might have worked for the Norsj? Carpentry Shop. I don’t know their name, but I have two pictures that were taken in 1966.” The clerk studied the photographs for a long time but finally shook his head, saying he could not recognise either the man or the woman.
