Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [168]
The matter-of-fact tone gave the text such a surreal touch that it sounded like an absurd fantasy.
The story simply did not sound credible.
That was her intention.
At that moment she heard the rattle of the guard’s key ring. She turned off the Palm at once and put it in the recess in the back of the bedside table. It was Giannini. She frowned. It was 9.00 in the evening and Giannini did not usually appear this late.
“Hello, Lisbeth.”
“Hello.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m not finished yet.”
Giannini sighed. “Lisbeth, they’ve set the trial date for July 13.”
“That’s O.K.”
“No, it’s not O.K. Time is running out, and you’re not telling me anything. I’m beginning to think that I made a colossal mistake taking on the job. If we’re going to have the slightest chance, you have to trust me. We have to work together.”
Salander studied her for a long moment. Finally she leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling.
“I know what we’re supposed to be doing. I understand Mikael’s plan. And he’s right.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“But I am.”
“The police want to interrogate you again. A detective named Hans Faste from Stockholm.”
“Let him interrogate me. I won’t say a word.”
“You have to hand in a statement.”
Salander gave Giannini a sharp look. “I repeat: we won’t say a word to the police. When we get to that courtroom the prosecutor won’t have a single syllable from any interrogation to fall back on. All they’ll have is the statement that I’m composing now, and large parts of it will seem preposterous. And they’re going to get it a few days before the trial.”
“So when are you actually going to sit down with a pen and paper and write this statement?”
“You’ll have it in a few days. But it can’t go to the prosecutor until just before the trial.”
Giannini looked sceptical. Salander suddenly gave her a cautious smile. “You talk about trust. Can I trust you?”
“Of course you can.”
“O.K., could you smuggle me in a hand-held computer so that I can keep in touch with people online?”
“No, of course not. If it were discovered I’d be charged with a crime and lose my licence to practise.”
“But if someone else got one in … would you report it to the police?”
Giannini raised her eyebrows. “If I didn’t know about it …”
“But if you did know about it, what would you do?”
“I’d shut my eyes. How about that?”
“This hypothetical computer is soon going to send you a hypothetical email. When you’ve read it I want you to come again.”
“Lisbeth—”
“Wait. It’s like this. The prosecutor is dealing with a marked deck. I’m at a disadvantage no matter what I do, and the purpose of the trial is to get me committed to a secure psychiatric ward.”
“I know.”
“If I’m going to survive, I have to fight dirty.”
Finally Giannini nodded.
“When you came to see me the first time,” Salander said, “you had a message from Blomkvist. He said that he’d told you almost everything, with a few exceptions. One of those exceptions had to do with the skills he discovered I had when we were in Hedestad.”
“That’s correct.”
“He was referring to the fact that I’m extremely good with computers. So good that I can read and copy what’s on Ekström’s machine.”
Giannini went pale.
“You can’t be involved in this. And you can’t use any of that material at the trial,” Salander said.
“Hardly. You’re right about that.”
“So you know nothing about it.”
“O.K.”
“But someone else – your brother, let’s say – could publish selected excerpts from it. You’ll have to think about this possibility when you plan your strategy.”
“I understand.”
“Annika, this trial is going to turn on who uses the toughest methods.”
“I know.”
“I’m happy to have you as my lawyer. I trust you and I need your help.”
“Hmm.”
“But if you get difficult about the fact that I’m going to use unethical methods, then we’ll lose the trial.”
“Right.”
“And if that were the case, I need to know now. I’d have to get myself a new lawyer.”
“Lisbeth,