"You didn't see it before?"
He smiled all of a sudden.
"I mean, I've glanced at it, but when you were uncovered I was pretty busy stopping the bleeding and extracting bullets and so on."
"Why do you ask?"
"Out of curiosity, nothing more."
Salander thought for a while. Then she looked at him.
"I got it for reasons that I don't want to discuss."
"Forget I asked."
"Do you want to see it?"
He looked surprised. "Sure. Why not?"
She turned her back and pulled the hospital gown off her shoulder. She sat so that the light from the window fell on her back. He looked at her dragon. It was beautiful and professionally done, a work of art.
After a while she turned her head.
"Satisfied?"
"It's beautiful. But it must have hurt like hell."
"Yes," she said. "It hurt."
Jonasson left Salander's room somewhat confused. He was satisfied with the progress of her physical rehabilitation. But he could not work out this strange girl. He did not need a master's degree in psychology to know that she was not doing very well emotionally. The tone she used with him was polite, but filled with suspicion. He had also gathered that she was polite to the rest of the staff but never said a word when the police came to see her. She was locked up inside her shell and kept her distance from those around her.
The police had locked her in her hospital room, and a prosecutor intended to charge her with attempted murder and aggravated assault. He was amazed that such a small, thin girl had the physical strength for this sort of violent criminality, especially when the violence was directed at full-grown men.
He had asked about her dragon tattoo in the hope of finding a personal topic he could discuss with her. He was not particularly interested in why she had decorated herself in such a way, but he supposed that since she had chosen such a striking tattoo, it must have a special meaning for her. He thought simply that it might be a way to start a conversation.
His visits to her were outside his schedule, since Dr. Endrin was assigned to her case. But Jonasson was head of the trauma unit, and he was proud of what had been achieved that night when Salander was brought into the ER. He had made the right decision, electing to remove the bullet. As far as he could see, she had no complications in the form of memory lapses, diminished bodily function, or other handicaps from the injury. If she continued to heal at the same pace, she would leave the hospital with a scar on her scalp, but with no other visible damage. Scars on her soul were another matter.
Returning to his office, he discovered a man in a dark suit leaning against the wall outside his door. He had a thick head of hair and a well-groomed goatee.
"Dr. Jonasson?"
"Yes?"
"My name is Peter Teleborian. I'm the head physician at St. Stefan's psychiatric clinic in Uppsala."
"Yes, I recognize you."
"Good. I'd like to have a word in private with you if you have a moment."
Jonasson unlocked the door and ushered the visitor in. "How can I help you?"
"It's about one of your patients, Lisbeth Salander. I need to visit her."
"You'll have to get permission from the prosecutor. She's under arrest, and all visitors are prohibited. Any applications for visits must also be referred in advance to Salander's lawyer."
"Yes, yes, I know. I thought we might be able to cut through all the red tape in this case. I'm a physician, so you could let me have the opportunity to visit her on medical grounds."
"Yes, there might be a case for that, but I can't see what your objective is."
"For several years I was Lisbeth Salander's psychiatrist, when she was institutionalized at St. Stefan's. I followed up with her until she turned eighteen, when the district court released her back into society, albeit under guardianship. I should perhaps mention that I opposed that action. Since then she has been allowed to drift aimlessly, and the consequences are there for all to see today."
"Indeed?"
"I feel a great responsibility towards her still, and would value the chance to gauge how much deterioration has occurred over the past decade."
"Deterioration?"
"Compared to when she was receiving qualified care as a teenager. I thought we might be able to come to an understanding here, as one doctor to another."
"While I have it fresh in my mind, perhaps you could help me with a matter I don't quite understand . . . as one doctor to another, that is. When Lisbeth Salander was admitted to Sahlgrenska hospital I performed a comprehensive medical examination on her. A colleague sent for the forensic report on the patient. It was signed by a Dr. Jesper H. Loderman."
"That's correct. I was Dr. Loderman's assistant when
he was in practice."
"I see. But I noticed that the report was vague in the extreme."
"Really?"
"It contains no diagnosis. It almost seems to be an academic study of a patient who refuses to speak."
Teleborian laughed. "Yes, she certainly isn't easy to deal with. As it says in the report, she consistently refused to participate in conversations with Dr. Loderman. With the result that he was bound to express himself rather imprecisely. Which was entirely correct on his part."
"And yet the recommendation was that she should be institutionalized?"
"That was based on her prior history. We had experience with her pathology compiled over many years."
"That's exactly what I don't understand. When she was admitted here, we sent for a copy of her file from St. Stefan's. But we still haven't received it."
"I'm sorry about that. But it's been classified top secret by order of the district court."
"And how are we supposed to give her the proper care here if we can't have access to her records? The medical responsibility for her right now is ours, no-one else's."
"I've taken care of her since she was twelve, and I don't think there is any other doctor in Sweden with the same insight into her clinical condition."
"Which is what?"
"Lisbeth Salander suffers from a serious mental disorder. Psychiatry, as you know, is not an exact science. I would hesitate to confine myself to an exact diagnosis, but she has obvious delusions with distinct paranoid schizophrenic characteristics. Her clinical status also includes periods of manic depression, and she lacks empathy."
Jonasson looked intently at Dr. Teleborian for ten seconds before he said: "I won't argue a diagnosis with you, Dr. Teleborian, but have you ever considered a significantly simpler diagnosis?"
"Such as?"
"For example, Asperger's syndrome. Of course, I haven't done a psychiatric evaluation of her, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would consider some form of autism. That would explain her inability to relate to social conventions."
"I'm sorry, but Asperger's patients do not generally set fire to their parents. Believe me, I've never met such a clearly defined sociopath."
"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."