Singapore officials send Sikh Inspector Singh to China to investigate the murder of the son of a Singaporean envoy there.
Singh is the same as always. He is bearded and turbaned. He is fat and somewhat slovenly. He wears white tennis shoes. And he is an oddly brilliant outsider, someone authorities will do anything possible to ship off to another country.
As it turns out, the book has three main murders, one of them as bone-chilling as any murder I’ve read about lately.
Singh finds himself immersed in Chinese governmental corruption and brutality.
Chinese authorities are taking over Beijing neighborhoods, moving out the neighbors to build western-style malls. (Does this sound familiar to what sometimes happens in our U.S. cities?)
But in China things are different. The government’s tactics involve murder and intrigue. They also involve the Singaporean envoy’s family.
Along the way, Singh hooks up with an interesting sidekick. But Singh makes mistakes and almost ends up being killed.
Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh books are traditional police procedurals set in unusual places.
I’ve only read a few of these books, but this was one of the best so far.