CHAPTER 28
Friday, 15.vii – Saturday,
16.vii
Judge Iversen tapped his pen on the edge of his table to
quell the murmuring that had arisen in the wake of
Teleborian’s departure. He seemed unsure how to
proceed. Then he turned to Prosecutor Ekström.
“Do you have any comment to make to the court on what
has been seen and heard in the past hour?”
Ekström stood up and looked at Judge Iversen and then at
Edklinth before he turned his head and met Salander’s
unwavering gaze. He understood that the battle was lost.
He glanced over at Blomkvist and realized with sudden
terror that he too risked being exposed to Millennium’s
investigators … Which could ruin his career.
He was at a loss to comprehend how this had happened.
He had come to the trial convinced that he knew everything
about the case.
He had understood the delicate balance sought by national
security after his many candid talks with Superintendent
Nyström. It had been explained to him that the Salander
report from 1991 had been fabricated. He had received the
inside information he needed. He had asked questions –
hundreds of questions – and received answers to all of
them. A deception in the national interest. And now Nyström
had been arrested, according to Edklinth. He had believed
in Teleborian, who had, after all, seemed so … so
competent. So convincing.
Good Lord. What sort of a mess have I landed in?
And then, How the hell am I going to get out of it?
He stroked his goatee. He cleared his throat. Slowly he
removed his glasses.
“I regret to say that it seems I have been misinformed on a
number of essential points in this investigation.”
He wondered if he could shift the blame on to the police
investigators. Then he had a vision of Inspector Bublanski.
Bublanski would never back him up. If Ekström made one
wrong move, Bublanski would call a press conference and
sink him.
Ekström met Salander’s gaze. She was sitting there
patiently, and in her eyes he read both curiosity and
vengeance.
vengeance.
No compromises.
He could still get her convicted of grievous bodily harm in
Stallarholmen. And he could probably get her convicted for
the attempted murder of her father in Gosseberga. That
would mean changing his strategy immediately; he would
drop everything that had anything to do with Teleborian. All
claims that she was a psychopath had to go, but that
meant that her story would be strengthened all the way
back to 1991. The whole declaration of incompetence was
bogus, and with that …
Plus she had that blasted film…
Then it struck him.
Good God. She’s a victim, pure and simple.
“Judge Iverson … I believe I can no longer rely on the
documents I have here in my hand.”
“I suppose not,” Judge Iversen said.
“I’m going to have to ask for a recess, or that the trial be
suspended until I am able to make certain adjustments to
my case.”
“Advokat Giannini?” the judge said.
“I request that my client be at once acquitted on all counts
and be released immediately. I also request that the district
court take a definite position on the question of Fröken
Salander’s declaration of incompetence. Moreover, I
believe that she should adequately be compensated for
the violations of her rights that have occurred.”
Lisbeth Salander turned towards Judge Iversen.
No compromises.
Judge Iversen looked at Salander’s autobiography. He then
looked over at Prosecutor Ekström.
“I too believe we would be wise to investigate exactly what
has happened that brings us to this sorry pass. I fear that
you are probably not the right person to conduct that
investigation. In all my years as a jurist and judge, I have
never been party to anything even approaching the legal
dilemma in this case. I confess that I am at a loss for words.
I have never even heard of a case in which the
prosecutor’s chief witness is arrested during a court in
session, or of a quite convincing argument turning out to
be an utter fabrication. I honestly do not see what is left of
the prosecutor’s case.”
Palmgren cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Iversen said.
“As a representative for the defence, I can only share your
feelings. Sometimes one must step back and allow common
sense to guide the formal procedures. I’d like to state that
you, in your capacity as judge, have seen only the first
stage of a scandal that is going to rock the whole
establishment. Today ten police officers from within Säpo
have been arrested. They will be charged with murder and
a list of crimes so long that it will take quite some time to
draw up the report.”
“I presume that I must decide on a suspension of this trial.”
“If you’ll excuse me for saying so, I think that would be an
unfortunate decision.”
“I’m listening.”
“Lisbeth Salander is innocent. Her ‘fantastical’
autobiography, as Herr Ekström so contemptuously
dismissed it, is in fact true. And it can all be proven. She
has suffered an outrageous violation of her rights. As a
court we could now stick with formal procedure and
continue with the trial until finally we arrive at an acquittal,
but there is an obvious alternative: to let a new
investigation take over everything concerning Lisbeth
Salander. An investigation is already underway to sort out
an integral part of this mess.”
an integral part of this mess.”
“I see what you mean.”
“As the judge of this case you have a choice. The wise
thing to do would be to reject the prosecutor’s entire
preliminary investigation and request that he does his
homework.”
Judge Iversen looked long and hard at Ekström.
“The just thing to do would be to acquit our client at once.
She deserves in addition an apology, but the redress will
take time and will depend upon the rest of the
investigation.”
“I understand the points you’re making, Advokat Palmgren.
But before I can declare your client innocent I will have to
have the whole story clear in my mind. That will probably
take a while …”
He hesitated and looked at Giannini.
“If I decide that the court will adjourn until Monday and
accommodate your wishes insofar as I see no reason to
keep your client in custody any longer – which would mean
that you could expect that, no matter what else happens,
she will not be given a prison sentence – can you
guarantee that she will appear for continued proceedings
when summoned?”
“Of course,” Palmgren said quickly.
“No,” Salander said in a sharp voice.
Everyone’s eyes turned to the person who was at the heart
of the entire drama.
“What do you mean by that?” Judge Iversen said.
“The moment you release me I’m going to leave the
country. I do not intend to spend one more minute of my
time on this trial.”
“You would refuse to appear?”
“That is correct. If you want me to answer more questions,
then you’ll have to keep me in prison. The moment you
release me, this story is settled as far as I’m concerned.
And that does not include being available for an indefinite
time to you, to Ekström, or to any police officers.”
Judge Iversen sighed. Palmgren looked bewildered.
“I agree with my client,” Giannini said. “It is the government
and the authorities who have committed crimes against
Lisbeth Salander, not the other way around. At the very
least she deserves to be able to walk out of that door with
an acquittal and the chance to put this whole story behind
an acquittal and the chance to put this whole story behind
her.”
No compromises.
Judge Iversen glanced at his watch.
“It is 3.00. That means that you’re going to force me to
keep your client in custody.”
“If that’s your decision, then we accept it. As Fröken
Salander’s representative I request that she be acquitted
of the charges brought by Prosecutor Ekström. I request
that you release my client without restrictions, and without
delay. And I request that her previous declaration of
incompetence be rescinded and that her civil rights be
immediately restored.”
“The matter of the declaration of incompetence is a
significantly longer process. I would have to get statements
from psychiatric experts after she has been examined. I
cannot simply make a snap decision about that.”
“No,” Giannini said. “We do not accept that.”
“Why not?”
“Lisbeth Salander must have the same civil rights as any
other citizen of Sweden. She has been the victim of a
crime. She was falsely declared incompetent. We have
crime. She was falsely declared incompetent. We have
heard evidence of that falsification. The decision to place
her under guardianship therefore lacks a legal basis and
must be unconditionally rescinded. There is no reason
whatsoever for my client to submit to a psychiatric
examination. No-one else has to prove that they are not
mentally ill if they are the victim of a crime.” Judge Iversen
considered the matter for a moment. “Advokat Giannini, I
realize that this is an exceptional situation. I’m calling a
recess of fifteen minutes so that we can stretch our legs
and gather our thoughts. I have no wish that your client be
kept in custody tonight if she is innocent, but that means
that this trial will have to continue today until we are done.”
“That sounds good to me,” said Giannini.
Blomkvist hugged his sister. “How did it go?”
“Mikael, I was brilliant against Teleborian. I annihilated him.”
“I told you you’d be unbeatable. When it comes down to it,
this story is not primarily about spies and secret
government agencies; it’s about violence against women,
and the men who enable it. From what little I heard and
saw, you were phenomenal. She’s going to be acquitted.”
“You’re right. There’s no longer any doubt”
Judge Iversen banged his gavel.
“Could you please sum up the facts from beginning to end,
so that I can get a clear picture of what actually happened?
”
“Let’s begin,” Giannini said, “with the astounding story of a
group within the Security Police who call themselves ‘the
Section’, and who got hold of a Soviet defector in the mid-’70s. The story is published today in Millennium magazine. I
imagine it will be the lead story on all the news broadcasts
this evening …”
At 6.00 that evening Judge Iversen decided to release
Salander and to revoke her declaration of incompetence.
But the decision was made on one condition: Judge Iversen
demanded that Salander submit to an interview in which
she would formally testify to her knowledge of the
Zalachenko affair. At first she refused. This refusal brought
about a moment’s wrangling until Judge Iversen raised his
voice. He leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Salander.
“Fröken Salander, if I rescind your declaration of
incompetence, that will mean that you have exactly the
same rights as all other citizens. It also means that you
have the same obligations. It is therefore your duty to
manage your finances, pay taxes, obey the law, and assist
the police in investigations of serious crimes. So I am
summoning you to be questioned like any other citizen who
has information that might be vital to an investigation.”
The force of this logic seemed to sink in. She pouted and
looked cross, but she stopped arguing.
“When the police have interviewed you, the leader of the
preliminary investigation – in this case the Prosecutor
General – will decide whether you will be summoned as a
witness in any future legal proceedings. Like any other
Swedish citizen, you can refuse to obey such a summons.
How you act is none of my concern, but you do not have
carte blanche. If you refuse to appear, then like any other
adult you may be charged with obstruction of justice or
perjury. There are no exceptions.”
Salander’s expression darkened yet more.
“So, what is your decision?” Judge Iversen said.
After thinking it over for a minute, Salander gave a curt
nod.
O.K. A little compromise.
During her summary of the Zalachenko affair that evening,
Giannini launched a savage attack on Prosecutor Ekström.
Eventually Ekström admitted that the course of events had
proceeded more or less as Giannini had described them.
He had been helped during the preliminary investigation by
He had been helped during the preliminary investigation by
Superintendent Nyström, and had received his information
from Dr Teleborian. In Ekström’s case there was no
conspiracy. He had gone along with the Section in good
faith in his capacity as leader of the preliminary
investigation. When the whole extent of the conspiracy
finally dawned on him, he decided to withdraw all charges
against Salander, and that decision meant that a raft of
bureaucratic formalities could be set aside. Judge Iversen
looked relieved.
Palmgren was exhausted after his day in court, the first in
many years. He needed to go back to the Ersta
rehabilitation home and go to bed. He was driven there by
a uniformed guard from Milton Security. As he was leaving,
he put a hand on Salander’s shoulder. They looked at
each other, saying nothing. After a moment she nodded.
Giannini called Blomkvist at 7.00 to tell him that Salander
had been acquitted of all charges, but that she was going
to have to stay at police headquarters for what might be
another couple of hours for her interview.
The news came as the entire staff of Millennium were
gathered at the office. The telephones had been ringing
incessantly since the first copies of the magazine had been
distributed by messenger that lunchtime to other
newsrooms across the city. In the early evening T.V.4 had
broadcast its first special program on Zalachenko and the
broadcast its first special program on Zalachenko and the
Section. The media were having a field day.
Blomkvist walked into the main office, stuck his fingers in
his mouth and gave a loud whistle.
“Great news. Salander has been acquitted on all counts.”
Spontaneous applause broke out. Then everyone went
back to talking on their telephones as if nothing had
happened.
Blomkvist looked up at the television that had been turned
on in the editorial office. The news on T.V.4 was just
starting. The trailer was a brief clip of the film showing
Sandberg planting cocaine in his apartment on
Bellmansgatan.
“Here we can clearly see a Säpo officer
planting what we later learn is cocaine at the
apartment of Mikael Blomkvist, journalist at
Millennium magazine.”
Then the anchorman came on the screen.
“Twelve officers of the Security Police were
today arrested on a range of criminal charges,
including murder. Welcome to this extended
news broadcast.”
Blomkvist turned off the sound when She came on, and he
saw himself sitting in a studio armchair. He already knew
what he had said. He looked over at the desk where
Svensson had sat. All his research documents on the sex-trafficking industry were gone, and the desk was once
more home to stacks of newspapers and piles of unsorted
paper that nobody had time to deal with.
For Blomkvist, it was at that desk that the Zalachenko affair
had begun. He wished that Svensson had been able to see
the conclusion of it. A pile of copies of his just-published
book was on the table next to Blomkvist’s own about the
Section.
You would have loved this moment, Dag.
He heard the telephone in his office ringing, but he could
not face picking it up. He pulled the door shut and went into
Berger’s office and sank into a comfortable chair by the
window. Berger was on the telephone. He looked about.
She had been back a month, but had not yet got around to
putting up the paintings and photographs that she had
taken away when she left in April. The bookshelves were
still bare.
“How does it feel?” she said when she hung up.
“I think I’m happy,” he said.
She laughed. “The Section is going to be a sensation.
Every newsroom is going crazy for it. Do you feel like
appearing on Aktuellt at 9.00 for an interview?”
“I think not.”
“I suspected as much.”
“We’re going to be talking about this for several months.
There’s no rush.”
She nodded.
“What are you doing later this evening?” Berger said.
“I don’t know.” He bit his lip. “Erika … I …”
“Figuerola,” Berger said with a smile.
He nodded.
“So it’s serious?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s terribly in love with you.”
“I think I’m in love with her too,” he said.
“I promise I’ll keep my distance until, you know … well,
maybe,” she said.
At 8.00 Armansky and Linder appeared at Millennium’s
offices. They thought the occasion called for champagne,
so they had brought over a crate from the state liquor
store. Berger hugged Linder and introduced her to
everyone. Armansky took a seat in Blomkvist’s office.
They drank their champagne. Neither of them said
anything for quite a while. It was Armansky who broke the
silence.
“You know what, Blomkvist? The first time we met, on that
job in Hedestad, I didn’t much care for you.”
“You don’t say.”
“You came over to sign a contract when you hired Lisbeth
as a researcher.”
“I remember.”
“I think I was jealous of you. You’d known her only for a
couple of hours, yet she was laughing with you. For some
years I’d tried to be Lisbeth’s friend, but I have never once
made her smile.”
“Well … I haven’t really been that successful either.”
They sat in silence once again.
“Great that all this is over,” Armansky said.
“Amen to that,” Blomkvist said, and they raised their
glasses in salute.
Inspectors Bublanski and Modig conducted the formal
interview with Salander. They had both been at home with
their families after a particularly taxing day but were
immediately summoned to return to police headquarters.
Salander was accompanied by Giannini. She gave precise
responses to all the questions that Bublanski and Modig
asked, and Giannini had little occasion to comment or
intervene.
Salander lied consistently on two points. In her description
of what had happened in Stallarholmen, she stubbornly
maintained that it was Nieminen who had accidentally shot
“Magge” Lundin in the foot at the instant that she nailed
him with the taser. Where had she got the taser? She had
confiscated it from Lundin, she explained.
Bublanski and Modig were both sceptical, but there was no
evidence and no witnesses to contradict her story.
Nieminen was no doubt in a position to protest, but he
refused to say anything about the incident; in fact he had
no notion of what had happened in the seconds after he
was stunned with the taser.
As far as Salander’s journey to Gosseberga was
concerned, she claimed that her only objective had been to
convince her father to turn himself in to the police.
Salander looked completely guileless; it was impossible to
say whether she was telling the truth or not. Giannini had
no reason to arrive at an opinion on the matter.
The only person who knew for certain that Salander had
gone to Gosseberga with the intention of terminating any
relationship she had with her father once and for all was
Blomkvist. But he had been sent out of the courtroom
shortly after the proceedings were resumed. No-one knew
that he and Salander had carried on long conversations
online by night while she was confined to Sahlgrenska.
*
The media missed altogether her release from custody. If
the time of it had been known, a huge contingent would
have descended on police headquarters. But many of the
reporters were exhausted after the chaos and excitement
that had ensued when Millennium reached the news-stands and certain members of the Security Police were
arrested by other Security Police officers.
The presenter of She at T.V.4 was the only journalist who
knew what the story was all about. Her hour-long broadcast
became a classic, and some months later she won the
award for Best T. V. News Story of the Year.
Modig got Salander away from police headquarters by very
simply taking her and Giannini down to the garage and
driving them to Giannini’s office on Kungholm’s Kyrkoplan.
There they switched to Giannini’s car. When Modig had
driven away, Giannini headed for Södermalm. As they
passed the parliament building she broke the silence.
“Where to?” she said.
Salander thought for a few seconds.
“You can drop me somewhere on Lundagatan.”
“Miriam isn’t there.”
Salander looked at her.
“She went to France quite soon after she came out of
hospital. She’s staying with her parents if you want to get
hold of her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked. She said she needed some space. This
morning Mikael gave me these and said you’d probably like
to have them back.”
She handed her a set of keys. Salander took it and said:
“Thanks. Could you drop me somewhere on
Folkungagatan instead?”
“You don’t even want to tell me where you live?”
“Later. Right now I want to be left in peace.”
“O.K.”
Giannini had switched on her mobile when they left police
headquarters. It started beeping as they were passing
Slussen. She looked at the display.
“It’s Mikael. He’s called every ten minutes for the past
couple of hours.”
“I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Tell me … Could I ask you a personal question?”
“Yes.”
“What did Mikael do to you that you hate him so much? I
mean, if it weren’t for him, you’d probably be back on a
secure ward tonight.”
“I don’t hate Mikael. He hasn’t done anything to me. I just
don’t want to see him right now.”
Giannini glanced across at her client. “I don’t mean to pry,
but you fell for him, didn’t you?”
Salander looked out of the window and did not answer.
“My brother is completely irresponsible when it comes to
relationships. He screws his way through life and doesn’t
seem to grasp how much it can hurt those women who
think of him as more than a casual affair.”
Salander met her gaze. “I don’t want to discuss Mikael with
you.”
“Right,” Giannini said. She pulled into the kerb just before
the junction with Erstagatan. “Is this O.K.?”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Salander made no move
to open the door. Then Giannini turned off the engine.
“What happens now?” Salander said at last.
“What happens now is that as from today you are no
longer under guardianship. You can live your life however
you want. Even though we won in the district court, there’s
still a whole mass of red tape to get through. There will be
reports on accountability within the guardianship agency
and the question of compensation and things like that. And
the criminal investigation will continue.”
“I don’t want any compensation. I want to be left in peace.”
“I understand. But what you want won’t play much of a role
here. This process is beyond your control. I suggest that
you get yourself a lawyer to represent you.”
“Don’t you want to go on being my lawyer?”
Giannini rubbed her eyes. After all the stress of the day
she felt utterly drained. She wanted to go home and have a
shower. She wanted her husband to massage her back.
“I don’t know. You don’t trust me. And I don’t trust you. I
have no desire to be drawn into a long process during
which I encounter nothing but frustrating silence when I
make a suggestion or want to discuss something.”
Salander said nothing for a long moment. “I … I’m not good
at relationships. But I do trust you.”
It sounded almost like an apology.
“That may be. And it needn’t be my problem if you’re bad at
relationships. But it does become my problem if I have to
represent you.”
represent you.”
Silence.
“Would you want me to go on being your lawyer?”
Salander nodded. Giannini sighed.
“I live at Fiskargatan 9. Above Mosebacke Torg. Could you
drive me there?”
Giannini looked at her client and then she started the
engine. She let Salander direct her to the address. They
stopped short of the building.
“O.K.,” Giannini said. “We’ll give it a try. Here are my
conditions. I agree to represent you. When I need to get
hold of you I want you to answer. When I need to know
what you want me to do, I want clear answers. If I call you
and tell you that you have to talk to a policeman or a
prosecutor or anything else that has to do with the criminal
investigation, then I have already decided that it’s
necessary. You will have to turn up at the appointed place,
on time, and not make a fuss about it. Can you live with
that?”
“I can.”
“And if you start playing up, I stop being your lawyer.
Understood?”
Understood?”
Salander nodded.
“One more thing. I don’t want to get involved in a big drama
between you and my brother. If you have a problem with
him, you’ll have to work it out. But, for the record, he’s not
your enemy.”
“I know. I’ll deal with it. But I need some time.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“I don’t know. You can reach me on email. I promise to reply
as soon as I can, but I might not be checking it every day—
”
“You won’t become a slave just because you have a lawyer.
O.K., that’s enough for the time being. Out you get. I’m
dead tired and I want to go home and sleep.”
Salander opened the door and got out. She paused as she
was about to close the car door. She looked as though she
wanted to say something but could not find the words. For
a moment she appeared to Giannini almost vulnerable.
“That’s alright, Lisbeth,” Giannini said. “Go and get some
sleep. And stay out of trouble for a while.”
Salander stood at the curb and watched Giannini drive
away until her tail lights disappeared around the corner.
“Thanks,” she said at last.
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