Yikes! Let the reader beware: this is dark, unsatisfying, stuff.
The evil that lurks in the shadows in this novel is The Company, a vague entity that seems as tied to and embedded in government and law enforcement as it is the drug and smuggling cartels. The plot consists of two intertwined threads, one personal for the main character--solving the murder of his father--and one professional, the company asks him to arrange a meeting between a local Muslim leader and an up and coming Chinese mafioso for the purpose of turning them against their higher ups.
Meanwhile there are a variety of subplots, a couple of characters whose are only in the novel to be killed at plot critical moments, and a deeply evocative characterization of a (possibly non-existent) neighborhood in San Fransisco.
The point of the novel appears to be that the forces in power get what they want regardless of who gets hurt, and the best any of us can hope for is to keep our heads down and try not to get caught up in it. Although there is no explicit mention of September 11th or terrorism, the paranoia in this novel is seems clearly fueled by a distrust of government and the defense and security industries. I assume this is intentional.
Like most noirish crime novels, the universal corruption is balanced by an individual redemption. In this case this comes at the end with the main character abruptly destroying the evidence of a grand conspiracy in order to preserve his neighborhood, even though it is dying on its own. But this is an incredibly hollow redemption, because the author has given no reason why this is something worth saving.
As I wrote this, my rating went from 4 stars, to 3, to 2. There is much to enjoy about this novel, it is complex, moves very quickly, has some interesting characters, and perfectly captures the feel of the non-touristy parts of San Fransisco. Sounds like a great crime novel right? But the more I think about the deep underlying cynicism and paranoia, the less I feel like I can truly recommend this novel.
Fuck it, 2 stars, and I'm going to go reread the Maltese Falcon.