"Froken Salander, if I rescind your declaration of incompetence, that will mean that you have exactly the same rights as all other citizens. It also means that you have the same obligations. It is therefore your duty to manage your finances, pay taxes, obey the law, and assist the police in investigations of serious crimes. So I am summoning you to be questioned like any other citizen who has information that might be vital to an investigation."

The force of this logic seemed to sink in. She pouted and looked cross, but she stopped arguing.

"When the police have interviewed you, the leader of the preliminary investigation  -  in this case the Prosecutor General  -  will decide whether you will be summoned as a witness in any future legal proceedings. Like any other Swedish citizen, you can refuse to obey such a summons. How you act is none of my concern, but you do not have carte blanche. If you refuse to appear, then like any other adult you may be charged with obstruction of justice or perjury. There are no exceptions."

Salander's expression darkened yet more.

"So, what is your decision?" Judge Iversen said.

After thinking it over for a minute, Salander gave a curt nod.

O.K. A little compromise.

During her summary of the Zalachenko affair that evening, Giannini launched a savage attack on Prosecutor Ekstrom. Eventually Ekstrom admitted that the course of events had proceeded more or less as Giannini had described them. He had been helped during the preliminary investigation by Superintendent Nystrom, and had received his information from Dr Teleborian. In Ekstrom's case there was no conspiracy. He had gone along with the Section in good faith in his capacity as leader of the preliminary investigation. When the whole extent of the conspiracy finally dawned on him, he decided to withdraw all charges against Salander, and that decision meant that a raft of bureaucratic formalities could be set aside. Judge Iversen looked relieved.

Palmgren was exhausted after his day in court, the first in many years. He needed to go back to the Ersta rehabilitation home and go to bed. He was driven there by a uniformed guard from Milton Security. As he was leaving, he put a hand on Salander's shoulder. They looked at each other, saying nothing. After a moment she nodded.

Giannini called Blomkvist at 7.00 to tell him that Salander had been acquitted of all charges, but that she was going to have to stay at police headquarters for what might be another couple of hours for her interview.

The news came as the entire staff of Millennium were gathered at the office. The telephones had been ringing incessantly since the first copies of the magazine had been distributed by messenger that lunchtime to other newsrooms across the city. In the early evening T.V.4 had broadcast its first special program on Zalachenko and the Section. The media were having a field day.

Blomkvist walked into the main office, stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle.

"Great news. Salander has been acquitted on all counts."

Spontaneous applause broke out. Then everyone went back to talking on their telephones as if nothing had happened.

Blomkvist looked up at the television that had been turned on in the editorial office. The news on T.V.4 was just starting. The trailer was a brief clip of the film showing Sandberg planting cocaine in his apartment on Bellmansgatan.

"Here we can clearly see a Sapo officer planting what we later learn is cocaine at the apartment of Mikael Blomkvist, journalist at Millennium magazine."

Then the anchorman came on the screen.

"Twelve officers of the Security Police were today arrested on a range of criminal charges, including murder. Welcome to this extended news broadcast."

Blomkvist turned off the sound when She came on, and he saw himself sitting in a studio armchair. He already knew what he had said. He looked over at the desk where Svensson had sat. All his research documents on the sex-trafficking industry were gone, and the desk was once more home to stacks of newspapers and piles of unsorted paper that nobody had time to deal with.

For Blomkvist, it was at that desk that the Zalachenko affair had begun. He wished that Svensson had been able to see the conclusion of it. A pile of copies of his just-published book was on the table next to Blomkvist's own about the Section.

You would have loved this moment, Dag.

He heard the telephone in his office ringing, but he could not face picking it up. He pulled the door shut and went into Berger's office and sank into a comfortable chair by the window. Berger was on the telephone. He looked about. She had been back a month, but had not yet got around to putting up the paintings and photographs that she had taken away when she left in April. The bookshelves were still bare.

"How does it feel?" she said when she hung up.

"I think I'm happy," he said.

She laughed. "The Section is going to be a sensation. Every newsroom is going crazy for it. Do you feel like appearing on Aktuellt at 9.00 for an interview?"

"I think not."

"I suspected as much."

"We're going to be talking about this for several months. There's no rush."

She nodded.

"What are you doing later this evening?" Berger said.

"I don't know." He bit his lip. "Erika... I..."

"Figuerola," Berger said with a smile.

He nodded.

"So it's serious?"

"I don't know."

"She's terribly in love with you."

"I think I'm in love with her too," he said.

"I promise I'll keep my distance until, you know... well, maybe," she said.

At 8.00 Armansky and Linder appeared at Millennium's offices. They thought the occasion called for champagne, so they had brought over a crate from the state liquor store. Berger hugged Linder and introduced her to everyone. Armansky took a seat in Blomkvist's office.

They drank their champagne. Neither of them said anything for quite a while. It was Armansky who broke the silence.

"You know what, Blomkvist? The first time we met, on that job in Hedestad, I didn't much care for you."

"You don't say."

"You came over to sign a contract when you hired Lisbeth as a researcher."

"I remember."

"I think I was jealous of you. You'd known her only for a couple of hours, yet she was laughing with you. For some years I'd tried to be Lisbeth's friend, but I have never once made her smile."

"Well... I haven't really been that successful either."

They sat in silence once again.

"Great that all this is over," Armansky said.

"Amen to that," Blomkvist said, and they raised their glasses in salute.

Inspectors Bublanski and Modig conducted the formal interview with Salander. They had both been at home with their families after a particularly taxing day but were immediately summoned to return to police headquarters.

Salander was accompanied by Giannini. She gave precise responses to all the questions that Bublanski and Modig asked, and Giannini had little occasion to comment or intervene.

Salander lied consistently on two points. In her description of what had happened in Stallarholmen, she stubbornly maintained that it was Nieminen who had accidentally shot "Magge" Lundin in the foot at the instant that she nailed him with the taser. Where had she got the taser? She had confiscated it from Lundin, she explained.

Bublanski and Modig were both sceptical, but there was no evidence and no witnesses to contradict her story. Nieminen was no doubt in a position to protest, but he refused to say anything about the incident; in fact he had no notion of what had happened in the seconds after he was stunned with the taser.

As far as Salander's journey to Gosseberga was concerned, she claimed that her only objective had been to convince her father to turn himself in to the police.

Salander looked completely guileless; it was impossible to say whether she was telling the truth or not. Giannini had no reason to arrive at an opinion on the matter.

The only person who knew for certain that Salander had gone to Gosseberga with the intention of terminating any relationship she had with her father once and for all was Blomkvist. But he had been sent out of the courtroom shortly after the proceedings were resumed. No-one knew that he and Salander had carried on long conversations online by night while she was confined to Sahlgrenska.

The media missed altogether her release from custody. If the time of it had been known, a huge contingent would have descended on police headquarters. But many of the reporters were exhausted after the chaos and excitement that had ensued when Millennium reached the news-stands and certain members of the Security Police were arrested by other Security Police officers.

The presenter of She at T.V.4 was the only journalist who knew what the story was all about. Her hour-long broadcast became a classic, and some months later she won the award for Best T.V. News Story of the Year.

Modig got Salander away from police headquarters by very simply taking her and Giannini down to the garage and driving them to Giannini's office on Kungholm's Kyrkoplan. There they switched to Giannini's car. When Modig had driven away, Giannini headed for Sodermalm. As they passed the parliament building she broke the silence.

"Where to?" she said.

Salander thought for a few seconds.

"You can drop me somewhere on Lundagatan."

"Miriam isn't there."

Salander looked at her.

"She went to France quite soon after she came out of hospital. She's staying with her parents if you want to get hold of her."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked. She said she needed some space. This morning Mikael gave me these and said you'd probably like to have them back."

She handed her a set of keys. Salander took it and said: "Thanks. Could you drop me somewhere on Folkungagatan instead?"

"You don't even want to tell me where you live?"

"Later. Right now I want to be left in peace."

"O.K."

Giannini had switched on her mobile when they left police headquarters. It started beeping as they were passing Slussen. She looked at the display.

"It's Mikael. He's called every ten minutes for the past couple of hours."

"I don't want to talk to him."

"Tell me... Could I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes."

"What did Mikael do to you that you hate him so much? I mean, if it weren't for him, you'd probably be back on a secure ward tonight."

"I don't hate Mikael. He hasn't done anything to me. I just don't want to see him right now."

Giannini glanced across at her client. "I don't mean to pry, but you fell for him, didn't you?"

Salander looked out of the window and did not answer.

"My brother is completely irresponsible when it comes to relationships. He screws his way through life and doesn't seem to grasp how much it can hurt those women who think of him as more than a casual affair."

Salander met her gaze. "I don't want to discuss Mikael with you."

"Right," Giannini said. She pulled into the kerb just before the junction with Erstagatan. "Is this O.K.?"

"Yes."

They sat in silence for a moment. Salander made no move to open the door. Then Giannini turned off the engine.

"What happens now?" Salander said at last.

"What happens now is that as from today you are no longer under guardianship. You can live your life however you want. Even though we won in the district court, there's still a whole mass of red tape to get through. There will be reports on accountability within the guardianship agency and the question of compensation and things like that. And the criminal investigation will continue."

"I don't want any compensation. I want to be left in peace."

"I understand. But what you want won't play much of a role here. This process is beyond your control. I suggest that you get yourself a lawyer to represent you."

"Don't you want to go on being my lawyer?"

Giannini rubbed her eyes. After all the stress of the day she felt utterly drained. She wanted to go home and have a shower. She wanted her husband to massage her back.

"I don't know. You don't trust me. And I don't trust you. I have no desire to be drawn into a long process during which I encounter nothing but frustrating silence when I make a suggestion or want to discuss something."

Salander said nothing for a long moment. "I... I'm not good at relationships. But I do trust you."

It sounded almost like an apology.

"That may be. And it needn't be my problem if you're bad at relationships. But it does become my problem if I have to represent you."

Silence.

"Would you want me to go on being your lawyer?"

Salander nodded. Giannini sighed.

"I live at Fiskargatan 9. Above Mosebacke Torg. Could you drive me there?"

Giannini looked at her client and then she started the engine. She let Salander direct her to the address. They stopped short of the building.

"O.K.," Giannini said. "We'll give it a try. Here are my conditions. I agree to represent you. When I need to get hold of you I want you to answer. When I need to know what you want me to do, I want clear answers. If I call you and tell you that you have to talk to a policeman or a prosecutor or anything else that has to do with the criminal investigation, then I have already decided that it's necessary. You will have to turn up at the appointed place, on time, and not make a fuss about it. Can you live with that?"

"I can."

"And if you start playing up, I stop being your lawyer. Understood?"

Salander nodded.

"One more thing. I don't want to get involved in a big drama between you and my brother. If you have a problem with him, you'll have to work it out. But, for the record, he's not your enemy."