Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [257]
Teleborian sighed.
Giannini continued. “I can go back to her school records and examine one situation after another in which Lisbeth turned violent. They were always preceded by some kind of provocation. I can easily recognize the signs of bullying. Let me tell you something.”
“What?”
“I admire Lisbeth Salander. She’s tougher than I am. If I had been strapped down for a year when I was thirteen, I would probably have broken down altogether. She fought back with the only weapon she had available – her contempt for you.”
Her nervousness was long gone. She felt that she was in control.
“In your testimony this morning you spoke a great deal about fantasies. You stated, for instance, that Lisbeth’s Salander’s account of her rape by Advokat Bjurman is a fantasy.”
“That’s correct.”
“On what do you base your conclusion?”
“On my experience of the way she usually fantasizes.”
“On your experience of the way she usually fantasizes? How do you decide when she is fantasizing? When she says that she was strapped to a bed for 380 days and nights, then in your opinion it’s a fantasy, despite the fact that your very own records tell us that this was indeed the case.”
“This is something entirely different. There is not a shred of evidence that Bjurman committed rape against Lisbeth Salander. I mean, needles through her nipples and such gross violence that she unquestionably should have been taken by ambulance to hospital? It’s obvious that this could not have taken place.”
Giannini turned to Judge Iversen. “I asked to have a projector available today …”
“It’s in place,” the judge said.
“Could we close the curtains, please?”
Giannini opened her PowerBook and plugged in the cables to the projector. She turned to her client.
“Lisbeth. We’re going to look at the film. Are you ready for this?”
“I’ve lived through it,” Salander said dryly.
“And I have your approval to show it here?”
Salander nodded. She fixed her eyes on Teleborian.
“Can you tell us when the film was made?”
“On 7 March, 2003.”
“Who shot the film?”
“I did. I used a hidden camera, standard equipment at Milton Security.”
“Just one moment,” Prosecutor Ekström shouted. “This is beginning to resemble a circus act.”
“What is it we are about to see?” Judge Iversen said with a sharp edge to his voice.
“Dr Teleborian claims that Lisbeth Salander’s account of her rape by Advokat Bjurman is a fantasy. I am going to show you evidence to the contrary. The film is ninety minutes long, but I will only show a few short excerpts. I warn you that it contains some very unpleasant scenes.”
“Is this some sort of trick?” Ekström said.
“There’s a good way to find out,” said Giannini and started the D.V.D. in her laptop.
“Haven’t you even learned to tell the time?” Advokat Bjurman greets her gruffly. The camera enters his apartment.
After nine minutes Judge Iversen banged his gavel. Advokat Bjurman was being shown violently shoving a dildo into Lisbeth Salander’s anus. Giannini had turned up the volume. Salander’s half-stifled screams through the duct tape that covered her mouth were heard throughout the courtroom.
“Turn off the film,” Judge Iversen said in a very loud and commanding voice.
Giannini pressed stop and the ceiling lights were turned back on. Judge Iversen was red in the face. Prosecutor Ekström sat as if turned to stone. Teleborian was as pale as a corpse.
“Advokat Giannini … How long is this film, did you say?”
“Ninety minutes. The rape itself went on in stages for about five or six hours, but my client only has a vague sense of the violence inflicted upon her in the last few hours.” Giannini turned to Teleborian. “There is a scene, however, in which Bjurman pushes a needle through my client’s nipple, something that Doctor Teleborian maintains is an expression of Lisbeth Salander’s wild imagination. It takes place in minute seventy-two, and I’m offering to show the episode here and now.”
“Thank you, that won’t be necessary,” the judge said. “Fröken Salander …”
For a second he lost his train of