Frantic confusion greets the opener of Downie's latest and a cliche to boot. Obviously any novel with a British woman of the first century A.D. must depict her as "six feet tall, red hair in a mass of rat's tails[...]of the Iceni" Just need a bit of blue woad to complete the Hollywood portrayal. Anyway, the confusion arises from our cliched Iceni (who's Boudicca's great grandaughter) arriving at the tent of the nephew (name of Firmus) of the laid up procurator to declare the tax-collecting father of her unborn child - one Julius Asper - is missing along with his brother, Julius Bericus, then promptly going into labour.
Luckily, Tilla and Gaius Petreius Ruso are on hand, having returned married from a sojourn to the family estate in "Ruso and the Root of All Evils", pleasantly chatting with Valens just in time to help out. Tilla delivers a baby, Ruso gets sent off to Camulodunum to locate the missing relatives. Trouble is, the pair wandered off with a load of cash and were last seen near a river. Having no luck and finding himself pressured by Tilla's fervent attempts to produce a child for him he gets ready to trot off to Verulamium this time only to be told the missing husband is now deceased. Sans money. Cause of death - difficult to tell. At least he was found in a mansio with a mysterious piece of paper referring to "Room XXVII".
Ruso is ordered by the Procurator to find the money and somewhat reluctantly commences a murder investigation against a background of Roman Imperial bureaucracy that is impressive in its ability to refuse to take responsibility for a corpse. The appearance of Camma's cuckolded husband, Caratius, the Catuvellauni magistrate, throws a motive into the mix pretty quickly. Ruso's got his own problems though, with the reappearance of Metellus and accusations of Tilla stealing money from the army. Their only recourse is to accompany Camma home. Tilla to try and sort out the future of mother and child, Ruso to try and figure out what actually happened. It's difficult trying to find a murderer when no one actually wants to give the truth about the Julian pair's activities. Once in Camulodunum Ruso is in a river with vying currents of taxation, coin forgery, buried treasure and political chicanery. He finds himself manipulated to produce a result that satisfies both Rome and the local populace. A result that isn't a case of "honesty wins the way", rather an astute report of what has happened to prevent embarrassment. Downie does give us the full picture surrounding the likes of Dias, Gallonius, and Caratius. We conclude with our Medicus declaring he's had enough of private investigation and would happily revert to a medically quieter life. I suspect, though, this is precisely the opposite of what Downie intends for our sleuth.
The Ruso series are developing somewhat interestingly. With each novel Downie's writing drops into new depths to the point this latest isn't merely airport fodder but deserves careful consideration in reading solitude. The mechanics of plot can no longer be glossed over, the climax isn't so obvious once half way through and Downie injects a sense of reality into the sleuthing that briskly sidesteps the Agatha Christie-esque denouement. If you've only read the first two mysteries and find them lightweight then persevere. Downie shows promise, marching the ascent to the likes of Gregory or Saylor or Davis. It remains to be seen if the author will arrive at the summit gasping or effortlessly.