It was only when we found out that the e-mails had probably been sent by Mirko Zigic that the police The older of the two officers interrupts. Interpol is looking for Zigic. We hope there might be a chance of picking him up here in Denmark.

Apparently Iben and Malene spent hours in an Internet cafe last night but found nothing to lead them to Zigic. The e-mails were sent via an anonymizer site and are impossible to trace. The two look exhausted, especially Iben, who has deep shadows under her eyes. Even so, they appear to be bursting with energy on an adrenaline high. Their eyes seem to be urging everyone, even Anne-Lise, to stick together.

The police have given the office a preliminary once-over and have checked Ibens and Malenes apartments, but so far they have found no clues. They ask general questions about the womens work at the DCIG.

About half an hour later the older policeman begins to tap on the table. Thats it for now. We cant do much more at present. The investigation will be handed over to the computer crime unit here in Copenhagen.

Iben shoves away a pile of photocopies. I see. So youre leaving?

Thats right.

And what if Zigic turns up here?

Two of our men are downstairs, guarding the door. They know the score. Dont worry.

They stare at him.

I can a.s.sure you that it is highly unlikely extremely unlikely that Zigic would come here. If he does, h.e.l.l be doing us all a good turn, because then we can put him away.

Iben refuses to be rea.s.sured. Are you telling me that the two guards downstairs know all about arresting an experienced mercenary? A ma.s.s murderer whos personally killed and tortured hundreds of victims?

The younger officer nods calmly. Youre obviously upset, but please remember that men like Zigic dont bother to e-mail their victims first before a.s.sa.s.sinating them.

Sure. h.e.l.l just sneak up behind his victim in the street without warning like Olof Palmes killer, right? Malene interjects.

The older policeman looks at Malene and pushes his mug of coffee out of the way. That was a problem handled by the Swedish police. b.l.o.o.d.y tragic. But a Swedish case.

He begins to pack his briefcase. Were all busy people. My colleague and I have to get back to the station. If there are any new developments, call the computer crime unit.

The door closes behind them.

The five employees stay on in the conference room to talk about the situation.

Iben speaks without her usual composure and repeats herself several times. Of course the cops are right. This isnt serious.

But something has changed.

Anne-Lise scans the others for signs of fear. What about Camilla, Paul, and Malene? Are they really scared? Or are they playacting as well?

They talk about the risks and about who, apart from Mirko Zigic, could have sent the e-mails. For much of the time they are simply making the same points again and again, and after about an hour, Paul gets up.

You all stay here. I understand that theres a lot for you to talk about. The trouble is, I simply have to go. I have an appointment at the Foreign Affairs Ministry. Fill me in later if you come up with something.

Camilla looks up with disbelief. Paul! Youre not leaving?

Thats the idea. Is there a problem?

But think of the danger!

Come on, I dont think anything bad will happen.

Iben interrupts. It seems to me that we should regard this as a very serious matter.

Pauls face looks grave and he sits back down on the edge of his chair. You must believe me, I am taking it seriously. Honestly. Very much so.

He studies each face in turn. Anne-Lise enjoys the attention.

However, what that police officer said must be true, Paul continues. No experienced soldier would bother e-mailing his victims before murdering them. The senders aim is only to scare us. Maybe to distract us from our work here, which seems to me to be the real danger. We cant let it happen.

He stands up. Anyway, continue talking. I dont expect you to do much more than that today. Later this week, well get up to speed again.

They stay seated around the table and discuss options for protecting themselves and catching Zigic, aware that there is something faintly insulting about Pauls manner. It was all very well for him to say, I understand that theres a lot for you to talk about, but then he made it obvious that he personally hadnt the slightest need to talk. Does he think that they need to sit about empathizing all day just because theyre women?

They decide to try to concentrate on work.

Back in the library, Anne-Lise phones Henrik. They actually looked at me! She cant get over it. And spoke to me as if I were really there. No barriers!

Henrik is pleased. Heartfelt thanks to whoever sent those e-mails.

She twists the phone cord around her finger. Shush.

Everyone in the office knows that the one thing that can disturb Pauls unruffled demeanor is the prospect of another meeting at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, since the outcome of such visits determines the DCIGs ability to grow and its future existence. Although the Ministry for Science, Technology, and Development pays its running costs, the Center is an independent organization and has to raise money for its projects, publications, and conferences by applying for grants from private and state foundations. One way or another, a substantial proportion of its finances can be traced back to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs.

Paul carries a heavy responsibility. To avoid layoffs, each year he must convince the Foreign Affairs Ministry that the Center is effective enough to justify their approval for new project funding. As he has told his staff, that isnt his only problem. The men from the ministry might well decide that the DCIG is too effective. It could occur to them that it would be desirable, all things considered, to shift the DCIG maintenance grant to their ministry. True, at first glance it might not seem to matter which arm of the government supports the Center, but Paul knows better.

The working briefs of the DCIG and the Danish Inst.i.tute for Human Rights are very similar. The DIHR is an independent organization too, but its fixed costs are paid by the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. The day may come when some young, inexperienced civil service advisor sees the advantages of making the DCIG part of the DIHR, with its hundred or so staff members. The upshot for Paul would be the loss of his special claim to give television interviews. And according to Paul, the DCIGs duty to inform the public about genocide issues would be undermined.

Yet as far as anyone knows, todays meeting at the ministry is not particularly important. Apparently Paul is out just to make a good impression.

Anne-Lise spends the rest of the morning unpacking parcels of printed matter from abroad and recording their contents.

By lunchtime Paul still isnt back. The women have their usual lunch in the small meeting room, except the bread is stale because no one could face breaking the police cordon to buy fresh rolls.

Camilla hardly eats a thing. She looks defeated, her arms hanging limply by her sides. But what if it isnt Zigic? It could be one of so many people, couldnt it?

Iben replies energetically, quickly swallowing the last bite: Youre right. The other day I tried to arrive at a figure for how many men known to have partic.i.p.ated actively in genocides are still alive. Fifteen million, at least! More than three times the number of men alive in Denmark today. If you count people whove backed a killer at some point, the number is much, much larger maybe several hundred million. Thats like the entire population of Europe. Or the U.S., for that matter. So, Zigic or no Zigic, theres no telling who else might have been provoked by whats on our Web site.

Malene gives her a puzzled look.

Iben answers her question before shes even asked it. I calculated a ballpark figure like this: one million in Rwanda, and about the same number in Sudan and Cambodia. At least five million in China, and three million in Russia. Then pool all the rest.

Iben turns to Camilla. Something happens, changes, inside most men in wartime. Did you read the three reports on genocide in Bosnia by Stjernfelt that appeared in the Week a few years ago?

No. I didnt.

Basically, it was the same story over and over again. A woman meets a nice man, her family likes him, and she feels safe with him. She has no inkling about the dark side to his character; neither has he. Probably. Anyway, no one would have guessed what he was capable of. Then the war begins.

Anne-Lise has often thought that Iben, rather than Malene, should be the one who does lecture tours. Iben always becomes so absorbed in what she is saying.

Then, one morning, his wife gets out of bed only to find him gone. Maybe theres a note telling her that he has gone to join some obscure military unit or other. If shes lucky, he will return to her and the children. It could take a few years, or just a few months. By then she will have heard that he has been shooting at civilians or herding people in front of execution squads or torturing prisoners. He might well have raped women and then killed them, or robbed houses and burned them down. But there he is, back home, ready to pick up his normal life where he left off.

Then what happens?

Ive written about it many times. For instance, in the Zigic article. Some men simply shrug the whole experience off. That was during the war, theyll say, and settle into peacetime life as if rape and murder couldnt be farther from their minds. Others never let go of the past. Theyve changed.

Are you saying that all men have a kind of war b.u.t.ton? Like, you press it and they start murdering?

Put that way yes, I am. Not all, but most men. Its a fact. If you dont believe me, just check out our library. Isnt that so, Malene?

Yes, it is.

Camilla is silent, but looks distressed at the turn their conversation is taking.

Iben is still fired up. She takes a slice of chorizo from one of the boxes and squeezes the plastic lid back on.

Ill tell you a story. When I was little, we had this dog, a German shepherd called Max. All the children in the street liked playing with Max, and at times it couldnt have been much fun for him. Wed pull his tail or poke him in the eye by mistake, or stick our fingers into his mouth, but he put up with it. Max had been with us for years when we took him for a long walk one day. We let him off the lead because we knew he always came when we called. She hesitates.

Anyway, that day we set out to walk in a nearby stretch of woodland. Suddenly Max was off. Calling him had no effect. When my father finally found him it was in the much larger adjacent wood. Max had killed a young deer and was wild with excitement. There was blood all over his head. He had never seen a deer before in his life, but he knew what to do. He had run the animal down and leapt straight for its throat.

Camilla listens, her mouth hanging open.

We spoke to the vet about what had happened and he said that Max was dangerous now that he had experienced bloodl.u.s.t. Hunting and killing had changed him. In a way, he had become another dog. We realized that we were more to blame than he was, but there was nothing else we could do. My mom and dad had to ask the vet to put Max down. All the kids in the street cried.

Iben and Malene exchange a quick glance. Anne-Lise realizes that Malene has heard all this before. After the break she and Iben will go into the kitchen or the copier room to talk privately.

Camilla has pushed her plate away. She looks at Iben. So what youre saying is that men are like the dog in your story?

Malene leans forward over the table. Iben thinks that were all a little like animals, dont you, Iben?

In some ways, yes, I think we are. We should have known better and not let Max run free in the woods. It was instinct he couldnt help himself.

There is something about all this that appears to make Camilla more excited than Anne-Lise has ever seen her before. She has dropped the charming voice she uses on the telephone. So you think Mirko Zigic is one of these men. Were to feel sorry for him, because hes got this instinct for say, hanging people upside down from branches?

Hes a frightening man, regardless of his motivation. Just like Max became a frightening dog, particularly around children.

Anne-Lise enters the exchange for the first time. If theres something in men that makes them all potential murderers, then is it present in women too?

Iben replies: It might be but you never read about all-female militias rampaging through the countryside, killing and looting and burning everything to the ground.

Camilla grasps a fork in her hands as if shes trying to bend it. In a way it sounds to me as if you are defending the man who has threatened to kill you. Or all of us.

All Im saying is that these men are victims of war as well. War reveals something inside them that normally would have gone undiscovered. When the war ends, theyre probably just as shaken as the survivors. In shock, if you like, wondering What happened? What did I do?

Camilla quickly looks around the group. Well, it doesnt make sense to me to compare the suffering of the executioner with the suffering of the people he has killed.

Malene sighs demonstratively. Here we go. Back to the familiar old debate: How much of human behavior is due to instinct and how much to free will?

Iben snaps at Malene: Old debate it might be, but I cant recall us ever talking about it.

Malene seems confused.

From a purely ethical point of view its important to hang on to what the victims have a right to demand Oh, forget it; I dont know where this is going.

All three have a new edginess to their voices. Is it fear of Mirko Zigic that has caused this tension? Whatever it is, they are different. Wilder.

Anne-Lise feels like retreating to the library. She senses that in a moment one of them could lose control and every chance of reconciliation between them would be lost.

Camilla puts the fork down. What Im hearing, Iben, is that you feel that everyone is a victim rapists, the lot.

I suppose I do.

And a man who rapes in peacetime what about him? His basic instincts are getting the better of him too, right?

All Im saying is that Ive been surprised by how many men seem to have this built-in tendency something thats normally suppressed.

And that means that we should pity them, does it? Be supportive and offer them therapy sessions because theyve n.o.body to talk to about the women theyve raped? Camillas usually gentle voice is tinged with anger. Were talking about men who might kill us!

Lets not talk about them then.

Malene speaks quietly. Iben wants to understand every point of view, regardless of whose it is.

Silence.

Iben thinks that Zigic has gone underground someplace, maybe here in Copenhagen, and is agonizing away. You know, like Ive raped my friends wives and daughters. Ive painted the Serbian eagle on the walls of their houses using body parts dipped in their blood as my brush but hey! Does that make me a bad human being?

Malene starts to laugh at her own irony, but n.o.body is smiling. He would be utterly disoriented.

Yes, of course.

Malene glances at Iben sympathetically, then she looks at Camilla. If we think he is in any way normal, then imagine what it must be like to live with all that and have no one to talk to about it.

Anne-Lise suddenly senses that something is being aimed at her. She wants to get up and leave, but being included by them is what she has always wanted.

Camilla interrupts Malene. No way would I let him talk to me, thats for sure! Im prepared to try to understand lots of people and make allowances, but that kind of thing no, thats where I draw the line.

Iben is more direct. I wonder, is his loneliness getting hold of him? Maybe hes simply writing these e-mails because hes so isolated? Maybe we could make use of that?

Anne-Lise pushes back her chair. As she stands up, Malenes words reach her. Softly.

Perhaps its only people like us who have this need to talk. Someone like him might not feel the same way.

Malenes eyes rest calmly, almost amiably, on Anne-Lise.

Anne-Lise turns to go but remembers that she should do her part in clearing the table. She reaches for one of the dishes and watches Malene smile blandly.

But then, were clearly different from some people. Speaking for myself, I could never bear to work the way you do, Anne-Lise. You know, alone all day long, year in and year out.