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“This is outrageous,” Shenke said.

“It most certainly is,” Bublanski said.

He had Shenke’s office sealed and then placed two officers on guard outside the door, with instructions to let no-one cross the threshold. They had permission to use their batons and even draw their service weapons if anyone tried to enter the sealed office by force.

They continued their procession down the corridor until Bladh pointed to another door, and the procedure was repeated with chief of Budget, Gustav Atterbom.

*

Inspector Holmberg had the Södermalm armed response team as backup when at exactly noon he knocked on the door of an office rented temporarily on the fourth floor just across the street from Millennium’s offices on Götgatan.

Since no-one opened the door, Holmberg ordered the Södermalm police to force the lock, but the door was opened a crack before the crowbar was used.

“Police,” Holmberg said. “Come out with your hands up.”

“I’m a policeman myself,” Inspector Mårtensson said.

“I know. And you have licences for a great many guns.”

“Yes, well … I’m an officer on assignment.”

“I think not,” Holmberg said.

He accepted the assistance of his colleagues in propping Mårtensson against the wall so he could confiscate his service weapon.

“You are under arrest for illegal telephone tapping, gross dereliction of duty, repeated break-ins at Mikael Blomkvist’s apartment on Bellmansgatan, and additional counts. Handcuff him.”

Holmberg took a swift look around the room and saw that there was enough electronic equipment to furnish a recording studio. He detailed an officer to guard the premises, but told him to sit still on a chair so he would not leave any fingerprints.

As Mårtensson was being led through the front door of the building, Cortez took a series of twenty-two photographs with his Nikon. He was, of course, no professional photographer, and the quality left something to be desired. But the best images were sold the next day to an evening newspaper for an obscene sum of money.

Figuerola was the only police officer participating in the day’s raids who encountered an unexpected incident. She had back-up from the Norrmalm team and three colleagues from S.I.S. when at noon she walked through the front door of the building on Artillerigatan and went up the stairs to the top-floor apartment, registered in the name of Bellona Inc.

The operation had been planned at short notice. As soon as the group was assembled outside the door of the apartment, she gave the go-ahead. Two burly officers from the Norrmalm team raised a forty-kilo steel battering ram and opened the door with two well-aimed blows. The team, equipped with bulletproof vests and assault rifles, took control of the apartment within ten seconds of the door being forced.

According to surveillance carried out at dawn that morning, five individuals identified as members of the Section had arrived at the apartment that morning. All five were apprehended and put in handcuffs.

Figuerola was wearing a protective vest. She went through the apartment, which had been the headquarters of the Section since the ’60s, and flung open one door after another. She was going to need an archaeologist to sort through the reams and reams of paper that filled the rooms.

A few seconds after she entered the apartment, she opened the door to a small room towards the back and discovered that it was used for overnight stays. She found herself eye to eye with Jonas Sandberg. He had been a question mark during that morning’s assignment of tasks, as the surveillance officer detailed to watch him had lost track of him the evening before. His car had been parked on Kungsholmen and he had not been home to his apartment during the night. This morning they had not expected to locate and apprehend him.

They man the place at night for security reasons. Of course. And Sandberg sleeps over after the night shift.

Sandberg had on only his underpants and seemed to be dazed with sleep. He reached for his service weapon on the bedside table,