Life and Limb by Elsebeth Egholm Page B

that statement with a pinch of salt.
    â€˜What about the football hooligans? White Pride?’
    The cat had taken off and landed in the lap of Winkler without so much as a by-your-leave. Winkler ran his hand along its back and all the way to the tip of its tail.
    â€˜White Pride has restructured. They are no longer as visible as they once were and some of their members have joined the Danish Front, which today is firmly located in the centre of the Danish right wing. Many of their activities are arranged and coordinated from Aarhus.’
    The cat purred loudly. For a moment it was the only noise in the room.
    â€˜The hard core of White Pride has aged, but they’re still in the wings when they stir up violence at the stadiums. The problem is that they have managed to recruit new thugs known as Casuals.’
    â€˜Casuals?’
    The cat took off and landed a little clumsily on Dicte’s thigh. She felt its claws dig in through the fabric of her trousers. It was still purring.
    â€˜Casuals are young men; they wear designer labels and go in for organised violence. They support a variety of football clubs and arrange their confrontations by text message.’
    â€˜And they’re a threat?’
    Dicte could hear the scepticism in her own voice. Young men in designer clothes beating each other up – it was a long way from murdering young women and gouging out their eyes.
    â€˜They’re all a potential threat.’
    Again his tone was sharp and she heard the warning loud and clear.
    â€˜They’re sensitive to peer pressure and as a group they will do things they would never do on their own. Under the right circumstances, I believe they can all kill. But some have a greater propensity than others, of course.’
    The cat’s purring transmitted itself to Dicte. It was as if the tiny vibrations found their way to her fingertips.
    â€˜Have you any idea who they are? I’m thinking of names, photos, video or audio recordings.’
    He studied her as if weighing up the pros and cons. Perhaps he was running a huge risk by even seeing her, she thought. Or he was exaggerating. It was hard to tell.
    â€˜The groups film each other whenever they can. At left-wing demos the right wing always appears with their discreet cameras, and vice versa. If nothing else, both groups are very well documented inside their own circles and inside their opponent’s.’
    â€˜And how about you?’ Dicte asked. ‘Are you still documenting them?’
    It was a polite way of asking if he, too, turned up in disguise at demos, furtively taking shots with a concealed camera.
    He rose with effort from the brown velvet sofa.
    â€˜Come with me.’
    She followed him back down the hall. When he opened the door to his office she recognised the room from the photos she’d seen, but it was much smaller and more claustrophobic than she’d expected. Every surface was covered with folders, books or tapes. There was also a computer which, unlike everything else, looked brand new.
    Winkler sat down on his office chair and turned on the computer. Soon afterwards he started clicking on photos. One series showed men in winter clothing with their hoods up watching a demonstration. In the next photo the central figure, a man in a light nylon jacket, had pulled out a videocamera and started filming. Another was holding a digital camera. Later photos showed the three men leaving the demonstration, still with their hoods up. The final photo showed them entering a house.
    â€˜The man holding the video camera is Martin Brøgger. He’s dangerous because he’s quick on the uptake and equally quick on the trigger when things get dirty. He’s the brains behind the attacks on anti-racist demos. But he also leads from the front when there’s fighting to be done.’
    Dicte tried to get a proper look at the man but even though Winkler zoomed in, it was very difficult to see anything other than a