Friday, 15.vii Teleborian’s appearance inspired confidence as he sat in the witness box in the courtroom on Friday morning. He was questioned by Prosecutor Ekstr?m for some ninety minutes and he replied with calm authority to every question. The expression on his face was sometimes concerned and sometimes amused. “To sum up …” Ekstr?m said, leafing through his sheaf of papers. “It is your judgement as a psychiatrist of long standing that Lisbeth Salander suffers from paranoid schizophrenia?” “I have said that it is unusually difficult to make a precise evaluation of her condition. The patient is, as you know, almost autistic in her relation to doctors and other figures of authority. My assessment is that she suffers from a serious mental disorder, but that at the present time I cannot give an exact diagnosis. Nor can I determine what stage of the psychosis she is in without more extensive study.” “At any rate, you don’t consider her to be sane.” “Indeed her entire history presents most compelling proof that she is not sane.” “You have been allowed to read what Lisbeth Salander has termed her ‘autobiography’, which she has presented to the district court. What are your comments on this?” Teleborian threw up his hands and shrugged. “How would you judge the credibility of her account?” “There is no credibility. It is a series of assertions about various individuals, one story more fantastical than the other. Taken as a whole, her written explanation confirms our suspicions that she suffers from paranoid schizophrenia.” “Could you give an instance?” “The most obvious is of course the description of the alleged rape by her guardian Advokat Bjurman.” “Could you expand on that?” “The description is extremely detailed. It is a classic example of the sort of grotesque fantasy that children are capable of. There are plenty of parallel examples from familial incest cases in which the child gives an account which falls through due to its utter improbability, and for which there is no forensic evidence. These are erotic fantasies which even children of a very young age can have … Almost as if they were watching a horror film on television.” “But Lisbeth Salander is not a child, she is a grown woman,” Ekstr?m said. “That is correct. Although it remains to be seen exactly what her mental level may be. But basically you are correct. She is a grown woman, and presumably she believes in the account she has presented.” “So you’re saying it is all lies.” “No. If she believes what she says, then it is not a lie. It’s a story which shows that she cannot distinguish fantasy from reality.” “So she was not raped by Advokat Bjurman?” “No. There is no likelihood of that at all. She needs expert care.” “You yourself appear in Lisbeth Salander’s account—” “Yes, and that is rather intriguing. But once again, it’s a figment of her imagination. If we are to believe the poor girl, then I’m something approximate to a paedophile …” He smiled and continued. “But this is all just another expression of what I was speaking of before. In Salander’s autobiography we are told that she was abused by being placed in restraints for long spells at St Stefan’s. And that I came to her room at night … This is a classic manifestation of her inability to interpret reality, or rather, she is giving reality her own interpretation.” “Thank you. I leave it to the defence, if Fru Giannini has any questions.” Since Giannini had not had any questions or objections on the first two days of the trial, those in the courtroom expected that she would once again ask some obligatory questions and then bring the questioning to an end. This really is an embarrassingly deficient effort by the defence, Ekstr?m thought. “Yes, I do,” Giannini said. “I do in fact have a number of questions, and they may take some time. It’s 11.30 now. May I propose that we break for lunch, and that I be allowed to carry out my cross-examination of the witness after lunch without interval?” Judge Iversen agreed that the court should adjourn for lunch. * Andersson was accompanied by two uniformed officers when he placed his huge hand on Superintendent Nystr?m’s shoulder outside the M?ster Anders restaurant on Hantverkargatan at noon precisely. Nystr?m looked up in amazement at the man who was shoving his police I.D. right under his nose. “Hello. You’re under arrest, suspected of being an accessory to murder and attempted murder. The charges will be explained to you by the Prosecutor General at a hearing this afternoon. I suggest that you come along peacefully,” he said. Nystr?m did not seem to comprehend the language Andersson was speaking in, but he could see that he was a man you went along with without protest. Inspector Bublanski was accompanied by Modig and seven uniformed officers when Stefan Bladh of the Constitutional Protection Unit admitted them at noon precisely into the locked section that comprised the domain of the Security Police at Kungsholmen. They walked through the corridors behind Bladh until he stopped and pointed at an office door. The chief of Secretariat’s assistant looked up and was utterly perplexed when Bublanski held up his I.D. “Kindly remain where you are. This is a police action.” He strode to the inner door. Chief of Secretariat Albert was on the telephone. “What is this interruption?” Shenke said. “I am Criminal Inspector Jan Bublanski. You are under arrest for violation of the Swedish constitution. There is a long list of specific points in the charge, all of which will be explained to you this afternoon.” “This is outrageous,” Shenke said. ............