“I consider her to be withdrawn, but not a paranoid sociopath.”

“She is extremely manipulative,” Teleborian said. “She acts the way she thinks you would expect her to act.”

Jonasson frowned. Teleborian was contradicting his own reading of Salander. If there was one thing Jonasson felt sure about her, it was that she was certainly not manipulative. On the contrary, she was a person who stubbornly kept her distance from those around her and showed no emotion at all. He tried to reconcile the picture that Teleborian was painting with his own image of Salander.

“And you have seen her only for a short period when she has been forced to be passive because of her injuries. I have witnessed her violent outbursts and unreasoning hatred. I have spent years trying to help Lisbeth Salander. That’s why I’m here. I propose a co-operation between Sahlgrenska hospital and St Stefan’s.”

“What sort of co-operation are you talking about?”

“You’re responsible for her medical condition, and I’m convinced that it’s the best care she could receive. But I’m extremely worried about her mental state, and I would like to be included at an early stage. I’m ready to offer all the help I can.”

“I see.”

“So I do need to visit her to do a first-hand evaluation of her condition.”

“There, unfortunately, I cannot help you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“As I said, she’s under arrest. If you want to initiate any psychiatric treatment of her, you’ll have to apply to Prosecutor Jervas here in Göteborg. She’s the one who makes the decisions on these things. And it would have to be done, I repeat, in co-operation with her lawyer, Annika Giannini. If it’s a matter of a forensic psychiatric report, then the district court would have to issue you a warrant.”

“It was just that sort of bureaucratic procedure I wanted to avoid.”

“Understood, but I’m responsible for her, and if she’s going to be taken to court in the near future, we need to have clear documentation of all the measures we have taken. So we’re bound to observe the bureaucratic procedures.”

“Alright. Then I might as well tell you that I’ve already received a formal commission from Prosecutor Ekström in Stockholm to do a forensic psychiatric report. It will be needed in connection with the trial.”

“Then you can also obtain formal access to visit her through the appropriate channels without side-stepping regulations.”

“But while we’re going backwards and forwards with bureaucracy, there is a risk that her condition may continue to deteriorate. I’m only interested in her wellbeing.”

“And so am I,” Jonasson said. “And between us, I can tell you that I see no sign of mental illness. She has been badly treated and is under a lot of pressure. But I see no evidence whatsoever that she is schizophrenic or suffering from paranoid delusions.”

When at long last he realized that it was fruitless trying to persuade Jonasson to change his mind, Teleborian got up abruptly and took his leave.

Jonasson sat for a while, staring at the chair Teleborian had been sitting in. It was not unusual for other doctors to contact him with advice or opinions on treatment. But that usually happened only with patients whose doctors were already managing their treatment. He had never before seen a psychiatrist land like a flying saucer and more or less demand to be given access to a patient, ignoring all the protocols, and a patient, at that, whom he obviously had not been treating for several years. After a while Jonasson glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost 7.00. He picked up the telephone and called Martina Karlgren, the psychologist at Sahlgrenska who had been made available to trauma patients.

“Hello. I’m assuming you’ve already left for the day. Am I disturbing you?”

“No problem. I’m at home, but just pottering.”

“I’m curious about something. You’ve spoken to our notorious patient, Lisbeth Salander. Could you give me your impression of her?”

“Well, I’ve visited her three times and offered to talk with her. Every time she declined in a friendly but firm way.”

“What’s your impression of her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Martina, I know that you’re not a psychiatrist, but you’re an intelligent and sensible person. What general impression did you get of her nature, her state of mind?”

After a while Karlgren said: “I’m not sure how I should answer that question. I saw her twice soon after she was admitted, but she was in such wretched shape that I didn’t make any real contact with her. Then I visited her about a week ago, at the request of Helena Endrin.”

“Why did Helena ask you to visit her?”

“Salander is starting to recover. She mainly just lies there staring at the ceiling. Dr Endrin wanted me to look in on her.”

“And what happened?”

“I introduced myself. We chatted for a couple of minutes. I asked how she was feeling and whether she felt the need to have someone to talk to. She said that she didn’t. I asked if I could help her with anything. She asked me to smuggle in a pack of cigarettes.”

“Was she angry, or hostile?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. She was calm, but she kept her distance. I considered her request for cigarettes more of a joke than a serious need. I asked if she wanted something to read, whether I could bring her books of any sort. At first she said no, but later she asked if I had any scientific journals that dealt with genetics and brain research.”

“With what?”

“Genetics.”

“Genetics?”

“Yes. I told her that there were some popular science books on the subject in our library. She wasn’t interested in those. She said she’d read books on the subject before, and she named some standard works that I’d never heard of. She was more interested in pure research in the field.”

“Good grief.”

“I said that we probably didn’t have any more advanced books in the patient library – we have more Philip Marlowe than scientific literature – but that I’d see what I could dig up.”

“And did you?”

“I went upstairs and borrowed some copies of Nature magazine and The New England Journal of Medicine. She was pleased and thanked me for taking the trouble.”

“But those journals contain mostly scholarly papers and pure research.”

“She reads them with obvious interest.”

Jonasson sat speechless for a moment.

“And how would you rate her mental state?”

“Withdrawn. She hasn’t discussed anything of a personal nature with me.”

“Do you have the sense that she’s mentally ill? Manic depressive or paranoid?”

“No, no, not at all. If I thought that, I’d have sounded the alarm. She’s strange, no doubt about it, and she has big problems and is under stress. But she’s calm and matter-of-fact and seems to be able to cope with her situation. Why do you ask? Has something happened?”

“No, nothing’s happened. I’m just trying to take stock of her.”