The Latest in Paper

Ode to a Banker

Mysterious Press, 372 pp., $12.95

"Mortui non mordent" -- literally, "dead men don't bite" -- admittedly sounds something like a pitch-black comedy from the likes of Miramax (a romantic comedy, probably), but the more commonly used expression -- dead men tell no tales -- has a bearing on Davis' Roman mystery, her 12th featuring detective (or "informer") and sometime poet Marcus Didius Falco, who here is sent to uncover the murder of his publisher-cum-banker Chrysippus, whose body has been found -- like all good but maltreated corpses -- in the library. Complicating matters is a host of relatives, among them his somewhat more upper class wife Helena Justina and his parents and siblings, along with assorted troublemakers. His new home is in the midst of being constructed by what appear to be slacker contractors, there's a backstory involving Falco's late brother-in-law, the Emperor Vespasian, and his son Domitian Caesar, and, oh gods, some 30 other major and minor characters. Newcomers to Davis' pristinely grotty Rome, detailed in all its flaking glory and resuscitated to a state that makes our current geopolitical messes look positively linear by comparison, will be overjoyed to know that the frontispiece contains a lengthy list of the principal characters and their roles in the tale, as well as a map of Imperial Rome, both of which come in immensely handy if your knowledge of the vicinity and its citizenry is limited to a smattering of high school Latin and its attendant lesson plans. Like Imperial Rome, Ode to a Banker is a sprawling, remarkable event masquerading as a trade paperback murder mystery. Davis' uncanny knack for period detail makes you wonder just how old she is, and her dry comic asides (Falco on writers: "Writers have their little routines: If I knew anything they were either still in bed -- or they had gone early for lunch. Long and leisurely, probably." Ouch!) are strewn about like tunics outside a bathhouse. Ultimately Ode to a Banker ends up back in that aforementioned library where Falco deduces -- in fine BritMystery fashion -- the identity of the culprit à la Agatha Christie and so many others. It's the depiction of ancient Rome and its inhabitants that hooks you, though, and while she may bristle at the comparison, for my lira it's even more impressive than Terry Pratchett's mad, bad Ankh-Morpork. No werewolves here, but plenty of human beasts just the same.

Lindsey Davis will be part of the "Timing Is Everything" panel on Friday, Oct. 18, at 10:30am, at the Renaissance Hotel.