A Dying Light in Corduba is vintage Davis. We find our hero once again caught up in the seamy machinations of bureaucrats and senators who are vying for power in Vespasian's Rome. This time it's all about olive oil.

Falco is invited to a typical Roman banquet held by the Society of Olive Oil Producers of Baetica by the palace's Chief Scribe, the ambitious (everyone is ambitious) and untrustworthy (everyone's untrustworthy) Claudius Laeta. He is surprised to discover than another of the guests is his enemy the Chief Spy, Anacrites. Since Anacrites (also ambitious and untrustworthy) tried to eliminate Falco out of professional jealousy, our hero is not pleased to be greeted by the man.

Falco is even less pleased the next morning when Laeta appears at his door with the news that Anacrites has been viciously attacked and is at death's door. And when it turns out that another guest at the banquet, one of Anacrites' agents, has been brutally murdered, well, clearly something smells, at it isn't spoiled olive oil.

Laeta wants Falco to hie himself to Baetica in sunny Hispania to discover exactly what is going on. Is the ambitious senator, Quinctius Attractus, trying to form a cartel that will drive up the price of the all important commodity, olive oil? Why did his Spanish guests leave town so quickly the day after the party? What role does his son, the newly appointed quaestor of Baetica, play in his plot? And what happened to the Spanish dancer who may well have been the murderer?

Falco, however, is not anxious to leave Rome. His wife (well, she's not officially his wife; plebeian Marcus cannot legally marry patrician Helena) is expecting their first child in two months and he's promised to be there when the baby arrives. But Helena solves that dilemma by announcing that she will travel to Hispania with her husband. Anything to get away from her hovering mother and mother-in-law. And so the adventure begins.

One of the charms of Davis' books is that they are narrated by Falco, whose self-deprecating persona is eminently charming. He reminds me (dare I say this) just a little of Lieutenant Columbo. Seemingly disarming, but actually sharp as can be. And also brave and daring and clever, although Falco would be the last to describe himself thusly. And then there is his mordant wit as he observes the vagaries of his society with a devastating acuteness.

A Dying Light in Corduba is definitely a mystery, but the solution is by no means as straightforward as discovering who killed whom. Rather, the mystery is more who is trying to do what to whom to increase whose power and position in the dog-eat-dog politics of imperial Rome.

Marcus Didius Falco is, in my opinion, one of the most imaginative and delightful creations in the vast pantheon of detectives, both contemporary and historical. And Helena is his worthy mate. Their developing relationship provides an added attraction to this story. Likewise, Davis provides her usual vast cast of interesting secondary characters who inhabit all levels of Roman society. These are real people, both remarkably different from us and surprisingly the same.

A Dying Light in Corduba is historical mystery at its best. It is also historical fiction at its best. What a fun way to learn about ancient Rome. If you haven't discovered Marcus Didio Falco yet, now is your chance. But it would be much better to find The Silver Pigs and then Shadows in Bronze and then. . . . But you get the picture. Just make sure you don't have any other plans for the weekend.

--Jean Mason