By Paul Carrier
But the jaded, barely solvent “informer” (read: private eye) has cause for cynicism. Life has not been overly kind to the struggling detective, who is, by his own admission, “only one rank up from woodlice.” Sure, the beautiful and patrician daughter of a senator has taken a liking to him, but he can’t even afford to buy his way into the “middle rank” of Roman society, which would make marriage to Helena Justina more than a pipe dream.
Of more immediate concern is a fight Falco has in a seedy Roman bar with Censorinus, a soldier from the outfit of Falco’s late brother Festus, a war hero. Falco and Censorinus slug it out after Censorinus claims that he and other soldiers from the 15th Apollinaris Legion invested in a scheme Festus cooked up to import an ancient statue, and possibly other valuable goods, from Greece for resale. The cargo supposedly was lost at sea, but Festus assured his buddies that he would make good on their losses. He died in battle before doing so.
Censorinus demands that Falco pay up, even though Falco knows nothing about the deal and Censorinus is maddeningly vague about the details.
When Censorinus is murdered a short time later, Falco emerges as the prime suspect. He didn’t do it, of course, but he has very little time to find the killer if he hopes to avoid being arrested, jailed, and possibly executed. While Falco stumbles and bumbles along, a kitchen knife belonging to his mother turns up at the bar where Censorinus was stabbed to death, strengthening the case against Falco.
This fifth entry in Lindsey Davis’ Falco mystery series combines the hard-boiled dialogue and witty descriptions that are hallmarks of the series.
A fisherman who died after eating at the dive where Falco and Censorinus fought it out supposedly was “hastily processed and served up as spicy halibut balls,” to avoid a long legal battle with his heirs. Falco explains that Flora’s, the tavern in question, has a grossly misleading wine list because the dump really serves only “one dubious vintage whose ingredients were not more than second cousins to grapes.” Two small rooms there that are rented out to boarders are so tiny they were “furnished for thin dwarves with no luggage.”
Falco may be poor, but he’s far from lonely, and his personal relationships figure prominently in Poseidon’s Gold.
In addition to his romance with Justina, Falco has an overbearing, perpetually disssatisfied mother, as well as assorted sisters, ne-er-do-well brothers-in-law, dubious uncles, and his shady but wealthy father Geminus, an auctioneer who abandoned the family when Falco was still a kid.
Geminus resurfaces when Falco grudgingly seeks his help in solving the murder. Then Geminus turns the tables and calls on Falco for assistance when unscrupulous art collectors who claim to have paid Festus in advance for that missing Greek statue rough up Geminus and demand that he reimburse them.
In fact, the varied nature of Falco’s family ties is a recurring theme of Poseidon’s Gold, at times overshadowing the killing that, ostensibly, lies at the heart of the tale. This mystery melds murder and manners in an entertaining package that makes for a quick read.
