The Adversary (32 page)

Nergui turned his back on the view below. “Doripalam. I want to talk about Muunokhoi.”

“I know all about Muunokhoi,” Doripalam said. “He almost cost me my job.”

Nergui laughed again. “And you accuse me of having an over-inflated sense of my own importance?”

“You put those words in my mouth,” Doripalam pointed out. “I didn't say it.”

Nergui smiled. “But how much do you really know about Muunokhoi? What do you know of the history?”

“I know you were after him. I know you've been after him for a long time.”

“It was that obvious, then?” Nergui said. “Yes, I suppose it was. I've been after him for—what, the best part of two decades. Probably not particularly rational. Except that he's one of the biggest crooks this country's produced.”

“Do you know that? I mean,” Doripalam said, “are you sure? We've never laid a finger on him. You've never laid a finger on him. He's one of our more respectable citizens. You admit you've not been entirely rational about this.”

Nergui was watching a flock of pigeons sweeping softly across the sky, attracted by the scatterings of bread crumbs left by tourists in the heart of the temple. “There's a history to it, of course. Of course there is. And for Tunjin as well.”

“Tunjin? What do you know about Tunjin?” Doripalam looked at him sharply.

“It's a long story. But there's history there, too. Tunjin's been after Muunokhoi as long as I have.”

“So is that why he pulled that stupid stroke?”

“Trying to forge the evidence against Muunokhoi? Yes, of course. He was getting near the end of his career, running out of chances. He thought it was worth a try.”

“That was how he explained it to me,” Doripalam said. “I thought he was mad.”

“He probably was,” Nergui said, smiling faintly. “Or, at least, not entirely rational.”

“But you're sure it's true? You're sure that there's a case against Muunokhoi?”

Nergui regarded the young man closely. “You keep asking me that. Have you some reason to question it?”

“You trained me. You'd expect me to challenge you on this. He's one of our more respectable citizens.”

“And respectability never goes with criminality?”

Doripalam laughed. “You should know. You're the one who mixes with politicians.”

“That's better,” Nergui said. “You're finally beginning to sound like the Doripalam I know. You know—” He stopped.

“What?”

“I even thought it might have been you. Just for a moment. I really thought even you might have been one of them.”

“One of who?”

Nergui paused and then carried on slowly. “The reason why we have never managed to lay a finger on Muunokhoi is because he has people—I don't know how many people—on the inside.”

Doripalam stared at him. “You're the second person today who's implied I'm on Muunokhoi's payroll. I nearly punched the first one.”

Nergui shrugged. “He seems to know everything. Why do you think Tunjin's plan failed? Not because it was half-baked. I don't condone what Tunjin did but I have to concede that he did it well. His forgeries were simple but good enough to do the job. He pitched it just right. It should have worked. But it didn't. And the reason it didn't work was that Muunokhoi found out what was going on. Almost immediately.”

“And you really think that I—?”

Nergui shook his head. “No. No, of course not. Not really. But we're talking about someone—maybe more than one—who has access to the most sensitive information. When I started the inquiry—”

“So that's what it was all about, the inquiry. Not just cleaning out the stables. You wanted to know how Muunokhoi knew what Tunjin was up to.” He paused. “Does that mean you knew about Tunjin's scheme?”

Nergui nodded. “I suppose I can't be too offended about that question, given what I've just said. But, no. I didn't. If I had, I'd have stopped it. But once the whole thing collapsed, it was obvious to me that Muunokhoi knew.”

“So you persuaded the Minister to let you head the inquiry to find out how?”

“‘Persuaded' is perhaps a bit strong. But, yes, I did.”

Doripalam paused, staring out over the city. There were a few fluffy clouds in the sky now, drifting slowly out toward the rich green of the steppes. “And you investigated me?”

Nergui shrugged. “I investigated everyone. Including you.”

“And found nothing, I trust?”

“If you really had been on Muunokhoi's payroll, I'd have found nothing anyway. But, no, I found nothing.”

“So why don't you think I am? On Muunokhoi's payroll, I mean.”

Nergui shrugged. “I'm a policeman,” he said. “I trust my instincts. Don't you?”

“Not as much as I should, probably,” Doripalam said. “But, okay, you trust me, and I suppose I should be flattered, though I'm not sure that's exactly how I feel at the moment. But where does that get us? What's this all about?”

“It gets us into an almighty mess,” Nergui said. “We've still got nothing on Muunokhoi. Sarangarel—Judge Radnaa—has been abducted. Tunjin is missing. And we don't have a clue how any of this fits together.”

“And Mrs. Tuya was brutally murdered,” Doripalam said. “And her family are terrified.”

Nergui had been watching the slow movement of a freight train through the center of the city. Now he turned back to look at Doripalam. “What do you mean?” he said. “What does that have to do with Muunokhoi?”

“I don't know. Possibly nothing. But I somehow made the link in my mind as you were talking. Maybe I'm finally trusting my instinct. Anyway, you remember the story. Gavaa had moved to the city. Boasted he'd gotten some impressive job, but nobody knew what. Then he went missing. And then we found his mother's body—”

“And you think this might somehow be connected with Muunokhoi?” They had turned back toward the temple now, and were walking back down toward the cluster of buildings. A line of orange-clad monks emerged from the temple and walked slowly ahead of them. The rows of prayer wheels glittered and clattered in the early evening sunshine.

Doripalam shrugged. “It wasn't a connection I'd made till just now. I had a sudden image in my mind of the mother's mutilated body.” He paused. “I've heard all the stories about Muunokhoi and what he's capable of. Those four terrified men up in the mountains—”

Nergui nodded. “Did you get anything out of them?”

“I sent someone up there, but they clammed up, apparently. Nothing at all. Nothing to add to what they told me.”

Nergui nodded. “It may depend on who you sent.”

Doripalam turned and looked at him. “Did your
inquiry give you any idea who we can trust? Or who we can't?”

“No. I've identified one or two junior officers who I'm pretty sure are on the take, but even there it's hard to find real evidence. But among the senior officers—no. I wouldn't even want to guess.”

Doripalam stopped walking. They were looking out over Nairamdal Park, where Nergui had held his midnight meeting with Tunjin. “You really think it's that serious?” Doripalam said. “You really think we've been infiltrated that deeply?”

“I'm sure of it,” Nergui said. “Muunokhoi does what he likes.” He paused. “But there's something else happening here. We've never gotten close to Muunokhoi before, never gotten anywhere near to laying a finger on him, other than Tunjin's doomed effort. And Muunokhoi's never needed to get his hands dirty. And yet now—”

“What?”

“Now we have Tunjin missing, on the run from Muunokhoi—”

“How do you know he's on the run?” Doripalam was watching the older man closely, realizing that as always he was several steps ahead in his thinking, already playing with thoughts that Doripalam had not yet begun to conceive.

“He called me,” Nergui said. “I met him. Here.” He gestured out toward the green sweep of the parkland, the distant blue sliver of the lake. “The night before last.”

“But why didn't you say? Why didn't you do something?”

Nergui looked back at Doripalam. “What should I have done? I did not—do not—know who to trust. I could not even offer Tunjin the protection of the police. Think of that.”

“But he's safe?”

“For the moment. Tunjin is no fool, despite appearances. He can look after himself.”

“I hope so,” Doripalam said. “I wouldn't wish to be on the wrong side of Muunokhoi.”

They had resumed walking, making their way down from the Monastery grounds out toward the park. “But why is this happening?” Nergui said. “Why is Muunokhoi risking playing his hand? Why is he bothering to pursue Tunjin? Why has he had Sarangarel abducted?”

“You don't know for sure that he has,” Doripalam said. “I mean, you don't know for sure that Muunokhoi is behind this.”

“I know,” Nergui said. His voice, as always, carried an absolute authority. “And I think you're right. That he was also behind the murder of Mrs. Tuya. And quite possibly behind the disappearance of her son. But why are these things happening? This is not Muunokhoi. This is not his way of working.”

“Maybe it's not Muunokhoi,” Doripalam suggested. “Maybe it's—I don't know—maybe someone in his organization. Some loose cannon. Taking things into his own hands.”

“I don't think so,” Nergui said. “That wouldn't be Muunokhoi's way of working either. It might happen once—perhaps an over-enthusiastic servant. But it would not happen twice.” He paused. “There is
something wrong here. We need to find Sarangarel. Quickly.”

“That won't be easy,” Doripalam said. “Even assuming you're right, and Muunokhoi is behind this—” He raised his hand to cut off the older man's objections. “I'm not disagreeing with you. But we have no evidence. Muunokhoi is an important man. We can't simply have him arrested. We can't even go and search his property, unless we have a far more substantive reason than anything that's emerged so far.”

“There are things we can do—”

“I know, and I've already set them in motion while you were negotiating your way out of hospital. I've got surveillance on all of Muunokhoi's houses and business premises. I've got Muunokhoi himself under surveillance. And of course I've set all the standard processes in place to try to find Mrs. Radnaa. The kidnapping of a judge would still be a serious offense even if she weren't a friend of yours.”

Nergui nodded, accepting the mild rebuke as justified. “Of course,” he said. “You know your job.”

“But you're worried.”

“I'm worried. And if you've set all this in motion, then Muunokhoi will already know we're after him.”

Doripalam shrugged. “There was no way of avoiding that,” he said, “if your suspicions about infiltration are correct.”

“And it may not be a bad thing. There is something happening here. Perhaps Muunokhoi will feel the pressure.”

“Perhaps,” Doripalam said, “but I do not think we should place much faith in that possibility.”

They had entered the park now, the children's play area ahead of them. In the late afternoon the park was crowded with families, teenagers eating ice creams, old men in traditional robes talking the day away.

Nergui stopped walking and looked at Doripalam as though a thought had just struck him. “What happened to Mrs. Tuya's family?”

Doripalam looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“You spoke about the four men. Up in the mountains. Afraid they were being chased. What happened to them?”

“They—” Doripalam stopped, his mind suddenly pursuing the train of thought that Nergui had presumably already followed. “I left them up there. Told the local police to keep them under surveillance. Give them any necessary protection. But I didn't really think—”

“That they needed it?”

Doripalam hesitated. “No. I mean, they were clearly afraid. But I couldn't see why anyone would want to pursue them. Even given Mrs. Tuya's murder. They had nothing that anyone might want—”

“Except that we don't know that,” Nergui said. “We don't know anything.”

“And if you're right,” Doripalam said, “by offering them police protection, I might have sentenced them to death.”

Nergui shook his head. “We don't know that,” he said. “But we can't take anything for granted.” He stood silently for a moment, watching the carefree crowds spreading out across the green of the park. “We can't trust anyone.”

Doripalam nodded and took out his cell phone. He flicked through the saved numbers and dialed the direct line for Tsend, the police chief up in Bulgan. He found himself redirected through to a secretary.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “He's tied up in meetings all day. I can take a message.”

“Tell him it's Doripalam of the Serious Crimes Team. Ask him to call me back urgently.” The tone was more peremptory that usual for Doripalam, but he had little expectation that Tsend would return his call quickly.

He ended the call, looked at Nergui and shrugged. “I'm not sure how far I'm going to get through official channels,” he said. “Tsend was hardly co-operative when I was up there before. I assumed it was the usual cynicism about visitors from the capital, but who knows?” He began to flick through the saved numbers again. “There's one other route I can try.”

He dialed the number for the local station where Yadamsuren, the outstationed officer, was located and, after a few moments, succeeded in being put through.

“It's Doripalam,” he said. “From the Serious Crimes Team. You remember?”

“I'm not likely to forget quickly,” Yadamsuren said. “My shoulder's still sore.”

“I've been trying to get through to the main station in Bulgan,” Doripalam said, “but I can't raise anyone who might be able to give me any information. I just wanted to know what happened to our four nomads. They're still around, I take it?”