An adversary is not necessarily an enemy, as author Michael Walters shows us in the relationship between ex-police chief Negrui and Doripalam, the young newcomer who has taken his position in the law enforcement hierarchy of Ulan Baatar, Mongolia. Veteran Negrui has been moved up to a ministerial position in the justice system in order to make way for the new generation of police detectives, but he just can't, or won't, accept the restaints of a deskjob. His crime solving skills won't be suppressed or suspended especially as they're so superior to those of his junior man.

But, though the interdepartmental relationship between the young and the old could be said to have become adversarial, their common adversary is the virtually untouchable mobster Muunokhoi who, again, in a bungled court trial before Negrui's old flame Judge Raadna, manages to get off scot free. Law enforcement and the State Prosecutor's Office just can't seem to make charges against this wily and powerful killer stick. And it didn't help the case when Tunjin, a clumsy, overweight police officer under Doripalam's command, decided to falsify evidence.

In a prologue featuring people who remain nameless, we're not told if it is Muunokhoi staging and ordering the burning of a man alive in a locked car out on the steppes, miles from the city of Ulan Baatar. But it's a reasonable supposition that the poor victim will fit into events that formulate a newly arising and difficult case.

The far reaching mystery begins when Mrs. Tuya, a nomadic mother, decides not to move with the relatives of her tribe until her son returns from somewhere unknown. She tells as much to the investigating policeman who is surprised at how convinced she is that something bad has happened to him despite the lack of information indicating it. A brutal form of fear validation emerges, however, when a different policeman revisits the woman a couple of days later. After listening to her story and her refusal to move away, he attacks her into a state of semiconsciousness. Someone isn't happy with Mrs. Tuya's stubbornness.

But, who is this officer, and who does he take his marching orders from? Not Doripalam, for certain. This is not how the good guys operate here, any more than in police departments anywhere. But, the horrifying act is a symbol of the corruption that pervades Negrui's and Doripalam's police department and the government itself. Is it possible than Muunokhoi has developed so much control that an act like this can go unpunished?

Trying to avoid his ex-boss and mentor, and in response to press coverage of the nomadic mother's case and the implications for the police, Doripalam leaves his desk to take a drive with officer Luvsan in the new department car, a Daihatsu 4x4. To the chief, his deputy's aggressive style of driving is a challenge, but he gets the job done by knowing exactly where the nomad encampment is. The policemen split up to search the tents, finding them empty. Except for Mrs. Tuya's. That's different because of the unmistakable smell. And the discovery of her partially decomposed, neck-slashed and tortured body

Neither Doripalam, and even less Negrui, suspect the degree to which their department has become infected with an organized strain of criminals. But, as the investigation proceeds and grows more and more intricate, distrust and tension builds until the small cadre of honest men work together to find their man. It leads to the possible resumption of a romance, a desperate kidnapping and a surprising element of slapstick, somewhat farcical humor, thanks to a certain suspended cop.

Walters is sure in his creation of a setting he obviously knows well, and in depth. He provides a procedural that's entirely familiar despite the exotic nature of an unfamiliar regional culture. He seems to be telling us not to be surprised by the universality of crime and the pursuit of justice. The return of adversaries Negrui and Doripalam is something to look forward to.