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Chill ville >> Could City of Ice turn Montreal into a conspiracy theory capital? by JULIET WATERS
Cinq-Mars, protagonist of City of Ice, was reasonably happy pouring his intelligence and integrity into the challenging detail work of Montreal street crime. Until the day he started getting calls from an anonymous informant tipping him off to a series of stunning crimes, making him a somewhat reluctant hero in Allô Police! Ferguson, on the other hand, suffered a sudden career downslide before making a brilliant recovery. On the abyss of failure after his last novel sold only 200 copies, Ferguson invented his own anonymous voice and secret identity: John Farrow, unknown thriller writer. With the help of a good agent, Ferguson sold City of Ice under the Farrow pseudonym to American publishers and shifted gears from a formerly respectable mid-list (the term used by the publishing industry for a writer who is saleable, but not bestseller status) writer, to a first-time novelist with a mid-six-figure advance. John Farrow has a straightforward, intelligent style that's something of a fusion between John Le Carré and Simenon. It's a voice that has more than enough authority to guide us through a gripping, complex, almost credible plot. Or at least a plot that may be more believable to people who don't live here. Without revealing too much, the premise of City of Ice is that biker gangs are forming links with international mafia rings, in particular the Russian mob. Forces are combining to make Montreal the brain centre of an international conspiracy of domestic terrorism designed to create the political instability that organized crime thrives on. Meanwhile, the CIA is becoming increasingly at home here, finding Montreal close enough to the States to engage in effective covert action without the constrictions of the American constitution. City of Ice opens as the head of the Wolverines (the name of the special forces police squad created to deal with biker gangs) is trying to seduce Cinq-Mars into joining. Suddenly, right in front of their secret surveillance point, the Rock Machine blow up the Hell's Angels Westmount accountant. But even the sight of severed limbs and burnt clumps of rich anglo flesh isn't enough to interest Cinq Mars. Biker gang wars, he insists, are not his turf. Unfortunately, fate has decided differently. On the job with his new English baby-faced partner, Detective Bill Mathers, Cinq-Mars finds a young informant brutally tortured and murdered. Hanging from a meat hook, dressed up as Santa Claus, he's wearing a note: Merry Xmas, M5. Seems the forces of international conspiracy are bent on dragging Cinq-Mars into their web, whether he likes it or not. Ferguson's main strength is characterization, particularly his talent at giving his characters strong psychological motives to propel them through a complex plot. His weakness, however, is a dated, narrow vision of Montreal where cultures don't mix and mutual English/French hatred seems to be a daily subtext. It does effectively create an atmosphere of paranoia, but it may not ring true for many local readers. Of course, these aren't problems that are likely to irritate American readers as much. And why rock the boat? With a new theme park, a baseball stadium, an influx of Hollywood money and a reputation as crime brain centre, we may all be able to swing major career shifts. I'm already fleshing out a screenplay idea that came to me last week. Would you believe: international mob alliances are responsible for the inexplicable world-wide success of a homely young Québécois diva. Desperately, she tries to pull out by announcing her retirement right before the Academy Awards. But Hell's Angels kidnap her and force her to carry a bomb into the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, to send Hollywood a message. Luckily, it doesn't go off, leaving the world safe but still trying to figure out what was up with that huge fedora. City of Ice by John Farrow, Harper Collins, hc, 437pp, $29.95
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Detective Émile Cinq-Mars has something in common with his creator, Montreal novelist Trevor Ferguson: both enjoyed respectable, if relatively obscure, careers in their chosen professions up until their early 50s, when both had dramatic career shifts.