Raymond Chandler once argued that the detective at the heart of a crime novel has to be a kind of knight — a man of honor walking down streets that are anything but honorable, neither tarnished by them nor afraid of them. That idea has shaped the genre for the better part of a century.
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For a good stretch of my life, my days were governed by things I could prove. Chain of custody. Time stamps. The serial number on a weapon, the data on a phone, the testimony I could swear to before a judge. A detective lives in the world of the demonstrable, because in that world a
There is a particular hour on a long surveillance — somewhere past two in the morning, when the coffee has gone cold and the street has emptied of everything but stray cats and bad intentions — when a man alone in a car begins to hear his own thoughts more clearly than he would like.
Continue Reading “Spiritual Warfare Themes in The Hunter of Wolves”