“good morning” with her teachers—the authorities had never found any reason to
alter their decision. Consequently, a situation of status quo had resulted, and so
year after year she was retained under guardianship.
The wording of the law states, however, that the conditions of a guardianship “shall
be adapted to each individual case.” Palmgren had interpreted this to mean that
Salander could take charge of her own money and her own life. He had
meticulously fulfilled the requirements of the authorities and submitted a monthly
report as well as an annual review. In all other respects he had treated Salander like
any other normal being, and he had not interfered with her choice of lifestyle or
friends. He did not think it was either his business or that of society to decide
whether the young lady should have a ring in her nose or a tattoo on her neck. This
rather stubborn attitude vis-à -vis the district court was one of the reasons why they
had got along so well.
As long as Palmgren was her guardian, Salander had not paid much attention to
her legal status.
Salander was not like any normal person. She had a rudimentary knowledge of the
law—it was a subject she had never had occasion to explore—and her faith in the
police was generally exiguous. For her the police were a hostile force who over the
years had put her under arrest or humiliated her. The last dealing she had had with
the police was in May of the previous year when she was walking past Götgatan on
her way to Milton Security. She suddenly found herself facing a visor-clad riot
police officer. Without the slightest provocation on her part, he had struck her on
the shoulders with his baton. Her spontaneous reaction was to launch a fierce
counterattack, using a Coca-Cola bottle that she had in her hand. The officer turned
on his heel and ran off before she could injure him. Only later did she find out that
“Reclaim the Streets” was holding a demonstration farther down the road.
Visiting the offices of those visor-clad brutes to file a report against Nils Bjurman for
sexual assault did not even cross her mind. And besides—what was she supposed
to report? Bjurman had touched her breasts. Any officer would take one look at her
and conclude that with her miniature boobs, that was highly unlikely. And if it had
actually happened, she should be proud that someone had even bothered. And the
part about sucking his dick—it was, as he had warned her, her word against his,
and generally in her experience the words of other people weighed more heavily
than hers. The police were not an option.