The Sentence Is Death

As the brilliant but abrasive detective, Hawthorne is the novel’s deuteragonist and the driving force for its mystery plot arc. The nature of his core personality remains static but dynamism is created as his enigmatic nature and background is slowly pieced together by the narrator, in parallel to his revelation of the crime mystery. Hawthorne’s role is often to act as a disruptor in the narrative, as immediately established in Chapter 1 when he literally bursts into Horowitz’s life. This is essential to the novel’s conceit that Horowitz is a reluctant participant and chronicler in Hawthorne’s story, rather than the novel’s author.

Hawthorne embodies the archetype of the classic literary detective, possessing near-superhuman powers of observation and deduction, in the model of Doyle’s Holmes or Christie’s Poirot. Hawthorne demonstrates this ability early on, correctly deducing the narrator’s morning routine with startling accuracy, noting details like a misplaced button and a smudge of toothpaste. His method involves identifying the underlying “shape” (230) of a crime, a process he compares to an author structuring a narrative. Hawthorne’s depiction as a character embedded often self-consciously—in this literary tradition, underpins the novel’s explicit literary borrowings, jokes, and subversions.

Hawthorne is a deeply flawed and often unlikable figure. He is secretive, refusing to share personal details about his life or his abrupt dismissal from Scotland Yard, which involved a suspect falling down a flight of stairs. This secrecy extends to his investigative process, as he frequently withholds key insights from his biographer, Horowitz, creating a dynamic of superiority and frustration. Hawthorne’s personality is marked by a cold, off-putting confidence and a variety of prejudices, including a recurring homophobia, which he expresses with remarks about Stephen Spencer’s “limp” wrists (51). These traits prevent him from forming meaningful connections and ensure he remains a solitary figure, respected for his results but disliked by nearly everyone he encounters, from police colleagues like DI Grunshaw to the very suspects he interviews. Hawthorne’s unconventional and legally ambiguous methods, such as his reliance on the teenage hacker, Kevin, further complicate his portrayal as a hero. He operates in a moral gray area, breaking rules to achieve justice. The glimpses into his past, such as being called “Billy” by a man in Yorkshire, add layers to his mystique, suggesting a hidden history that informs his present-day persona. Hawthorne therefore also serves as a complex character study for the narrator, who joins Horowitz in attempting to deduce the mysteries of Hawthorne’s character.

Colin Richardson is the story’s eventual antagonist, a 15-year-old boy whose impulsive act of revenge is the central crime of the novel. Though his on-page presence is minimal, his actions drive the plot and are key to its final mystery-resolution. He is a flat and static character, defined entirely by his reaction to a single, devastating revelation: that his godfather, Richard Pryce, was responsible for his father’s death. Colin’s characterization serves to explore how narratives can shape, and tragically distort, an individual’s understanding of morality and justice.

Deeply influenced by his reading, particularly Sherlock Holmes stories, Colin perceives himself as an agent of righteous vengeance. After murdering Richard in a fit of rage, he attempts to emulate the master criminals from his books by leaving a cryptic clue. He paints the number “182” on the wall, a piece of text-speak for “I hate you,” believing it to be a clever misdirection. Later, he fabricates a story about Richard being followed by a man with a “ghastly” face (120), a detail lifted directly from a Holmes story. These actions firmly place him within the theme of exposing narrative construction by subverting the ideas of reality and fiction, illustrating the dangerous consequences of applying literary logic to real-world trauma. His crime is presented as a misguided attempt to fulfil a hubristic self-characterization of the avenger, one that unravels because of its childish and derivative nature.

As Colin’s mother, Davina Richardson functions as a key red herring as she attempts to protect her son, thereby implicating herself in the crime. A round and dynamic character, the revelation of her actions transforms her from a seemingly stable widow and single mother into a clever manipulator of others. The novel explores the ambiguous morality of this with empathy, as her maternal instinct is to protect her son by criminal actions. When she deduces that Colin has murdered Richard, her maternal instinct overrides all other moral considerations. She masterfully constructs a web of lies designed to shield Colin and redirect suspicion elsewhere, embodying the theme of The Search for “Truth” in a World of Secrets and Lies.

Her plan is twofold: first, to frame her lover, Adrian Lockwood, and second, to provide a false confession herself. She breaks Adrian’s alibi by lying about the time he left her house, a deception aided by her feigned forgetfulness about turning back the clocks. She further implicates him by planting a speck of green paint—the same color used at the crime scene—on his shirt. When this fails to stop Hawthorne’s investigation, she delivers a detailed and emotionally convincing confession, taking responsibility for the murder. This act of self-sacrifice is the ultimate expression of her maternal devotion, showcasing her as a character whose actions, while criminal, are rooted in a powerful and tragic love for her child.

As the novel’s murder victim, Richard Pryce is the absent center of the novel, a round character whose complex and contradictory nature is revealed entirely through the recollections of others. His professional nickname, “the Blunt Razor,” reflects his reputation for scrupulous honesty as a divorce lawyer, a trait that makes him both respected and feared.

However, this public persona of integrity masks a deep, unresolved shame stemming from the novel’s foundational secret. His decision to abandon his friend Charles Richardson in the flooding cave system at Long Way Hole represents a profound moral failure. This event is the primary source of the theme of The Corrosive Power of Long-Buried Guilt. Richard’s subsequent financial support of Charles’s widow, Davina, and son, Colin, is revealed to be an act of guilt and secret penance rather than purely altruistic. This betrayal is the catalyst for Colin’s murder of Richard, embedding Richard’s moral flaw into the narrative structure.

Adrian Lockwood and Akira Anno are the couple whose acrimonious divorce provides the novel with much of its socio-cultural humor and critique. Both are shown to be greedy and duplicitous with uncontrolled tempers: In combination their hypocrisy acts as a foil for the “scrupulously honest” victim Richard. Both Adrian and Akira are prime suspects at different points in the novel, narrative roles which are supported by their characters’ secrets and moral ambivalence.

As a divorced couple who seek to defraud each other and the wider world, Adrian and Akira personify the novel’s presentation of elite corruption, entitlement, and violence. Akira’s character is a study in hypocrisy embodying the tension between public personas and private reality. Akira’s most significant secret is her dual identity as Mark Belladonna, the pseudonymous author of the commercially successful but critically reviled Doomworld fantasy series. This hidden life, which she keeps secret to protect her literary reputation, is the source of a vast, undeclared income that provides a strong motive for killing Richard once he begins investigating her finances. Similarly, Adrian has hidden valuable assets in the form of a wine collection, providing a potential motive for killing Richard and allowing Davina to frame him quite effectively.