and he has to learn some words again. But it's not like teaching a child to talk - he knows the meaning of the word, he just can't articulate it. Give him a couple of months and you'll see how his speech has improved compared with today. The same is true of his ability to get around. Nine months ago he couldn't tell left from right, or up from down in the elevator."
Salander thought about this for a minute. She discovered that she liked this Dr. A. Sivarnandan with the Indian looks and the Finnish accent.
"What does the A stand for?" she asked.
He gave her an amused look. "Anders."
"Anders?"
"I was born in Sri Lanka but then adopted by a couple in Åbo when I was three months old."
"OK, Anders, how can I help?"
"Visit him. Give him intellectual stimulation."
"I can come every day."
"I don't want you to be here every day. If he likes you, I want him to look forward to your visits, not get bored with them."
"Could any type of special care improve his odds? I can pay whatever it costs."
He smiled at Salander. "I'm afraid that we're all the special care there is. Of course I wish we had more resources and that the cutbacks didn't affect us, but I assure you that he's getting very competent care."
"And if you didn't have to worry about the cutbacks, what else could you offer him?"
"The ideal for patients like Holger Palmgren, of course, would be if I could offer him a full-time personal trainer. But it's been quite a while since we had resources like that in Sweden."
"Hire one."
"Excuse me?"
"Hire him a personal trainer. Find the best you can. Please do it first thing tomorrow. And make sure he has everything he needs in the way of technical equipment. I'll see to it that the funds are available by the end of the week to pay for it."
"Are you pulling my leg, young lady?"
Salander gave Dr. Anders Sivarnandan her hard, steady look.
Johansson braked and pulled her Fiat over to the curb outside Gamla Stan tunnelbana station. Svensson opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she drew away behind a bus.
"Hello, you," she said without taking her eyes off the traffic. "You look so serious. Has something happened?"
Svensson sighed as he fastened his seat belt.
"No, nothing major. A little problem with the manuscript is all."
"What problem?"
"Two months till the deadline. I've done only nine of the twenty-two confrontations we planned. I'm having trouble with Bjorck at the Security Police. The bastard is on long-term sick leave and he's not answering his home telephone."
"Is he in hospital?"
"Don't know. Have you ever tried getting information out of Sapo? They won't even admit that he works there."
"Did you try his parents?"
"Both dead. He's not married. He has a brother who lives in Spain. I just have no idea how to get hold of him."
Johansson glanced at her partner as she navigated across Slussen to the tunnel leading to Nynasvagen.
"Worst-case scenario, we jettison the section on Bjorck. Blomkvist insists that everyone we're planning to expose must have a chance to comment before being hung out to dry."
"But it would be a shame to miss out on a representative of the Security Police who runs around with prostitutes. What are you going to do?"
"Find him, of course. How are you doing? Nervous?"
He poked her carefully in the side.
"Actually, no. In two months I have to defend my dissertation and become a full-fledged doctor, and I feel as cool as a cucumber."
"You know the subject backwards. Why be nervous?"
"Look behind you."
Svensson turned and saw an open box on the backseat.
"Mia - it's printed!" he said in delight. He held up a copy of the bound thesis.
From Russia with Love
Trafficking, Organized Crime, and Society's Response
by Mia Johansson
"It wasn't going to be ready until next week. Damn... we're going to have to crack open a bottle when we get home. Congratulations, Doctor!"
He leaned over and kissed her again.
"Calm down. I won't be a doctor for another two months. And keep your hands under control while I'm driving."
Svensson laughed. Then he turned serious.
"By the way, fly in the ointment and all that... you interviewed a girl named Irina P. about a year ago."
"Irina P., twenty-two, from St.Petersburg. She first came here in 1999 and has made some return trips. What about her?"
"I ran into Gulbrandsen today. The policeman involved in the Sodertalje brothel investigation.