“So the sister was your informant?”

“Camilla was mortally afraid of her sister. Lisbeth had aroused attention in other quarters as well. She had several run-ins with people from the social welfare agency, and in our estimation she still represented a threat to Zalachenko’s anonymity. Then there was the incident in the tunnelbana.”

“She attacked a paedophile-”

“Precisely. She was obviously prone to violence and mentally disturbed. We thought that it would be best for all concerned if she disappeared into some institution again and availed herself of the opportunities there, so to speak. Clinton and von Rottinger were the ones who took the lead. They engaged the psychiatrist Teleborian again and through a representative filed a request in the district court to get her institutionalized for a second time. Palmgren stood up for Salander, and against all odds the court decided to follow his recommendation – so long as she was placed under guardianship.”

“But how did Bjurman get involved?”

“Palmgren had a stroke in the autumn of 2002. We still flag Salander for monitoring whenever she turns up in any database, and I saw to it that Bjurman became her new guardian. Bear in mind that he had no clue she was Zalachenko’s daughter. The brief was simply for Bjurman to sound the alarm if she started blabbing about Zalachenko.”

“Bjurman was an idiot. He should never have been allowed to have anything to do with Zalachenko, even less with his daughter.” Gullberg looked at Wadensjöö. “That was a serious mistake.”

“I know,” Wadensjöö said. “But he seemed the right choice at the time. I never would have dreamed that-”

“Where’s the sister today? Camilla Salander.”

“We don’t know. When she was nineteen she packed her bag and ran away from her foster family. We haven’t found hide nor hair of her since.”

“O.K., go on…”

“I have a man in the regular police who has spoken with Prosecutor Ekström,” Sandberg said. “The officer running the investigation, Inspector Bublanski, thinks that Bjurman raped Salander.”

Gullberg looked at Sandberg with blank astonishment.

“Raped?” he said.

“Bjurman had a tattoo across his belly which read I am a sadistic pig, a pervert, and a rapist.”

Sandberg put a colour photograph from the autopsy on the table. Gullberg stared at it with distaste.

“Zalachenko’s daughter is supposed to have given him that?”

“It’s hard to find another explanation. And she’s not known for being a shrinking violet. She spectacularly kicked the shit out of two complete thugs from Svavelsjö M.C.”

“Zalachenko’s daughter,” Gullberg repeated. He turned to Wadensjöö. “You know what? I think you ought to recruit her for the Section.”

Wadensjöö looked so startled that Gullberg quickly explained that he was joking.

“O.K. Let’s take it as a working hypothesis that Bjurman raped her and that she somehow took her revenge. What else?”

“The only one who could tell us exactly what happened, of course, is Bjurman, and he’s dead. But the thing is, he shouldn’t have had a clue that she was Zalachenko’s daughter; it’s not in any public records. But somehow, somewhere along the way, Bjurman discovered the connection.”

“But, Goddamnit Wadensjöö! She knew who her father was and could have told Bjurman at any time.”

“I know. We… that is, I simply wasn’t thinking straight.”

“That is unforgivably incompetent,” Gullberg said.

“I’ve kicked myself a hundred times about it. But Bjurman was one of the very few people who knew of Zalachenko’s existence and my thought was that it would be better if he discovered that she was Zalachenko’s daughter rather than some other unknown guardian. She could have told anyone at all.”

Gullberg pulled on his earlobe. “Alright… go on.”

“It’s all hypothetical,” Nyström said. “But our supposition is that Bjurman assaulted Salander and that she struck back and did that…” He pointed at the tattoo in the autopsy photograph.

“Her father’s daughter,” Gullberg said. There was more than a trace of admiration in his voice.

“With the result that Bjurman made contact with Zalachenko, hoping to get rid of the daughter. As we know, Zalachenko had good reason to hate the girl. And he gave the contract to Svavelsjö M.C. and this Niedermann that he hangs out with.”

“But how did Bjurman get in touch-” Gullberg fell silent. The answer was obvious.

“Björck,” Wadensjöö said. “Björck gave him the contact.”

“Damn,” Gullberg said.

In the morning two nurses had come to change her bedlinen. They had found the pencil.

“Oops. How did this get here?” one of them said, putting the pencil in her pocket. Salander looked at her with murder in her eyes.

She was once more without a weapon, but she was too weak to protest.

Her headache was unbearable and she was given strong painkillers. Her left shoulder stabbed like a knife if she moved carelessly or tried to shift her weight. She lay on her back with the brace around her neck. It was supposed to be left on for a few more days until the wound in her head began to heal. On Sunday she had a temperature of 102. Dr Endrin could tell that there was infection in her body. Salander did not need a thermometer to work that out.

She realized that once again she was confined to an institutional bed, even though this time there was no strap holding her down. That would have been unnecessary. She could not sit up even, let alone leave the room.

At lunchtime on Monday she had a visit from Dr Jonasson.

“Hello. Do you remember me?”

She shook her head.

“I was the one who woke you after surgery. I operated on you. I just wanted to hear how you’re doing and if everything is going well.”

Salander looked at him, her eyes wide. It should have been obvious that everything was not going well.

“I heard you took off your neck brace last night.”

She acknowledged as much with her eyes.

“We put the neck brace on for a reason – you have to keep your head still for the healing process to get started.” He looked at the silent girl. “O.K.,” he said at last. “I just wanted to check on you.”

He was at the door when he heard her voice.

“It’s Jonasson, right?”

He turned and smiled at her in surprise. “That’s right. If you remember my name then you must have been more alert than I thought.”

“And you were the one who operated to remove the bullet?”

“That’s right.”

“Please tell me how I’m doing. I can’t get a sensible answer from anyone.”

He went back to her bedside and looked her in the eye.

“You were lucky. You were shot in the head, but the bullet did not, I believe, injure any vital areas. The risk you are running is that you could have bleeding in your brain. That’s why we want you to stay still. You have an infection in your body. The wound in your shoulder seems to be the cause. It’s possible that you’ll need another operation – on your shoulder – if we can’t arrest the infection with antibiotics. You are going to have some painful times ahead while your body heals. But as things look now, I’m optimistic that you’ll make a full recovery.”

“Can this cause brain damage?”

He hesitated before nodding. “Yes, there is that possibility. But all the signs indicate that you made it through fine. There’s also a possibility that you’ll develop scar tissue in your brain, and that might cause trouble… for instance, you might develop epilepsy or some other problem. But to be honest, it’s all speculation. Right now, things look good. You’re healing. And if problems crop up along the way, we’ll deal with them. Is that a clear enough answer?”

She shut her eyes to say yes. “How long do I have to lie here like this?”

“You mean in the hospital? It will be at the least a couple of weeks before we can let you go.”

“No, I mean how long before I can get up and start walking and moving around?”