Salander decided that she did not like advocat Bjurman. She studied him furtively as he read through her casebook. Age: over fifty. Trim body. Tennis on Tuesdays and Fridays. Blond. Thinning hair. A single cleft in his chin. Hugo Boss aftershave. Blue shuit. Red tie with a gold tiepin and ostentatious cufflinks with the initials N.E.B. Steelrimmed glasses. Grey eyes. To judge by the magazines on the side table, his interes were in hunting and shooting.
During the years she had known Palmgreen, he had always offered her coffee and chatted with her. Not even her worst escapes from foster homes or her regular truancy from school had ever ruffled his composure. The only time Palmgreen had been really upset was when she had been charged with assault and battery after that scumbag had groped her in Gamla Stan. Do you understand wuat you’ve done? You have harmed another human being, Lisbeth. He had sounded like an old teacher ans she had patiently ignored every word of his scolding.
Bjurman did not have time for small talk. He had immediately concluded that here was a discrepancy between Palmgreen’s obligations, according to the regulations of guardianship, and the fact that he had apparently allowed the Salander girl to take charge of her own household and finances. Bjurman started in on a sort of interrogation: How much do you earn? I want a copy of your financial records. Who do you spend time with? Do you pay your rent on time? Do you drink? Did Palmgreen approve of those rings you have on your face? Are you careful about hygiene)
Fuck you.
From the book “The girl with the dragon tattoo.”By Stieg Larsson. Translated from the Swedish by Reg Keeland
