The Sins of the Fathers (Matthew Scudder, #1)

by Lawrence Block

But any of the things he said might turn out to matter, and there was no way to guess which it might be. I had learned long ago to listen to everything a man had to say.

I take a certain amount of money and pay my own expenses out of it. I don’t like keeping records. I also don’t like writing reports, or checking in periodically when there’s nothing to say for the sake of keeping a client contented.”

I never know how to set prices. How do you put a value on your time when its only value is personal? And when your life has been deliberately restructured to minimize involvement in the lives of others, how much do you charge the man who forces you to involve yourself?

“I want two thousand dollars from you now. I don’t know how long this will take or when you’ll decide you’ve seen enough of the dark room. I may ask you for more money somewhere along the way, or after it’s over...

He could also have afforded to send Hanniford home instead of referring him to me so that I could knock back twenty-five to him. Old habits die hard.

The Coptic jargon is a special one.

October 23, 1970.

salary of seventeen thousand dollars a year.

Something I learned long ago. It is not necessary to know what a person is afraid of. It is enough to know the person is afraid.

“What does that mean? It’s like pregnancy, isn’t it? Either you are or you aren’t.” “I think it’s more like honesty.” “Oh?” “Some people are more honest than others.” “I always thought honesty was unequivocal, too.”

Anyway, that’s not your question.” “It’s not?” “Of course not. What you want to know is how much of it was your fault.” He didn’t say anything.

“Everybody has mean little places inside himself. It’s the ones who aren’t aware of them who fly off the handle. You were able to see what was happening. That made you capable of keeping a lid on it.”

“Earlier you made her sound like a victim. Now she sounds like a villain.” “Everybody’s both.”

“That makes it worse, doesn’t it? It makes it more tragic.” “It makes it more tragic. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” “What? Oh, I see. That’s an interesting distinction.

Maybe it was Eve’s fault, messing around with apples. Dangerous thing, giving humanity the knowledge of good and evil. And the capacity to make the wrong choice more often than not.

I wondered whether it was worse for men to do the wrong things for the right reason or the right things for the wrong reason. It wasn’t the first time I wondered, or the last.

“There is really only one writer of mystery and detective fiction who comes close to replacing the irreplaceable John D. MacDonald, and only one detective who comes close to replacing the irreplaceable Travis McGee. The writer is Lawrence Block and the detective is Matt Scudder.” Stephen King

“Block is a rarity: a craftsman who writes about the sleazier aspects of life with style, compassion, and wit.” Denver Post

“Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett still cast long shadows across the mystery genre. If there’s one crime writer currently capable of matching their noirish legacies, it’s Lawrence Block.” San Francisco Chronicle

“Lawrence Block is one of the few [writers] I read religiously—especially the Scudder books. He makes storytelling look so effortless, which in fact is the hardest thing in the world to pull off well.” Michael Connelly