Lawrence Block has had a long and distinguished career as a crime novelist. He's written multiple series about different protagonists and done so in very different styles. He's written the light-hearted Bernie Rhodenbarr series of capers about an erudite burglar. He's also written the edgier stories about Evan Tanner, a man who can't sleep due to brain trauma suffered during the war. He's even done a series about a hitman named Keller.
But his most haunting and intriguing character is probably Matthew Scudder, an alcoholic ex-cop who quit the force after shooting a bullet that ricocheted and killed an innocent child. As a result, Scudder drinks too much and works as an unlicensed private eye, who earns a living by doing favors for people. (Then donates 10 percent of the proceeds to random churches, as a form of penance.)
When the Sacred Ginmill Closes:The Set-up
The story starts off with a bang – literally. Scudder and a group of friends are sitting in an after-hours bar, enjoying their usual round of drinks when an explosion shakes the place. This particular explosion doesn't seem to connect with anything in particular related to the plot (which could be said of much of what happens in the book, actually).
However, the explosion seems to put the characters on edge, prompting dialogue that feels so real, it's about as close as you get to overhearing actual people talk. Soon afterward, two masked men with guns charge into the bar, rob the place and make their getaway. This robbery turns out to be one of three cases Scudder ends up investigating, the two others being a blackmail scheme against one of his friends and a murder case in which he's gathering evidence for the defense.
Captures New York City and Alcoholism
Not only does Block have an unerring ear for real speech and a knack for creating interesting characters, but it's clear that he's enamored of New York City. The Manhattan and Brooklyn of the 1970s are described to a tee. Since Scudder is an alcoholic, bars make up a large part of the description. And Block describes Scudder's movements through the city with almost Mapquest-like detail.
Block also nails the life of an alcoholic. Scudder often claims memory lapses. (He's telling the story about 10 years after the fact.) He has all the usual alcoholic's traits – he's (almost) constantly drinking, he has blackouts, he often wakes up feeling the need for a quick nip (hair of the dog) to set himself right.
The story also captures a certain mindset among Scudder's friends, who aren't averse to doing their share of drinking. The characters are earthy and memorable – Irish bar owners, bartenders, actors, cops – and they each have their own set of quirks and problems.
Block spends so much time on the setting and characters, he almost neglects the mystery aspect. Scudder seems to do more drinking than investigating in this book and even admits several times that he's not really doing his job. Nonetheless, he does just enough to solve the cases.
A Hardboiled Drawing Room Scene?
As it happens, two of the cases turn out to be related. And when Scudder gathers his friends together to reveal who the culprit is, it feels like a hardboiled version of the climactic drawing room scene from an Agatha Christie novel. And the solution (much like Christie's novels) depends on characters the reader has never met (although those characters are connected to someone in the group – eventually).
While, from a puzzle-solving point of view, this may seem a trifle unfair to some readers, the book has much to recommend it. Primarily, Block's excellent writing – his vivid description, pitch-perfect dialogue and elaborate plotting, among other things. And his handling of the murder case, which resolves into the kind of ironic and unsentimental end that's the epitome of hard-boiled.
When the Sacred Ginmill Closes Avon Books (July 1997), ISBN: 978-0-3807-2825-1
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