River City, by John Farrow

If you approach River City, as I did, eagerly anticipating another murder mystery featuring Montreal police detective Émile Cinq-Mars, you won't be disappointed. The central event of the third Cinq-Mars novel from John Farrow (the genre nom de plume of Montreal novelist and playwright Trevor Ferguson) is the theft of the legendary Cartier Dagger during 1955's Richard Riot, and a brutal homicide committed in the immediate aftermath of the theft.

But intertwined with this mystery is 500 years of the (fictional) dagger's history, which amounts to a fairly detailed history of Montreal and the New World, including, but by no means limited to, the stories of Jacques Cartier (of course), Chief Donnacona, Samuel de Champlain, Paul de Chomedey, Jeanne Mance, Pierre-Esprit Radisson and Médard des Groseilliers, right up to Maurice Duplessis, Camillien Houde, René Lévesque, James Cross and Pierre Trudeau. These historical digressions are either a bonus or a distraction, or both, depending on how you feel about Quebec history. Farrow/Ferguson clearly loves it, and in many ways the novel is a paean to Montreal.

As for the murder-mystery component, the central detective through most of the work is Captain Armand Touton, a tough, old-school copper with a reputation as someone who isn't afraid to skate on the edges of the law. The murdered man, with the just-stolen Cartier Dagger in his heart, is Touton's informer and, in an odd sort of way, friend – Roger Clément, a former boxer and a small-time gangster.

Touton becomes close to Clément's widow, labour organizer Carole, and his daughter, the free-spirited Anik. But the investigation grinds along for years, until the early 1970s, when Quebec separatism is at its most popular and most violent.

Cinq-Mars, now a green constable, is recruited by Touton to take over the case, and to keep an eye on Clément's family. He falls in love with the separatist, anti-authoritarian Anik, who, much to her own surprise, begins to reciprocate. He also follows the clues, and it doesn't reveal too much to say that he eventually uncovers a conspiracy among the members of a centuries-old secret society of elite Quebeckers, a group with ties to the FLQ.

Is it worth sticking with it for nearly 850 pages? I think it is, even though I admit I was tempted to skim some of the historical bits. But even the history is fast-paced and full of sex, gore and political intrigue. The fictional characters are sympathetic and full of life, Armand Touton is a gem, and the deep background provided for the life of Émile Cinq-Mars would make the novel more than worthwhile on its own.

H.J. Kirchhoff is an editor in The Globe and Mail's Books section.