Character Before Clues: The Noir Detective's Code

By David Griffin Brown

When we come upon a novel that grabs us by the collar and won’t let go, it’s tempting to think we’re hooked by the plot. But often, the reason we can’t stop turning pages isn’t because we need to know what happens next. It’s because we need to know what the character will do next.

In noir fiction, this is especially true.

These are stories set in bleak, chaotic worlds where systems are broken, trust is thin, and the line between good and evil is permanently smudged. What holds a noir narrative together isn’t logic or a clever puzzle. It’s character—specifically, a protagonist with a deeply held personal code.

The Detective’s Narrative Compass

At the heart of noir is a central tension: the world is corrupt, maybe even irredeemable—but the protagonist refuses to be. That refusal, that stubborn grip on a professional code, becomes the organizing principle of the story.

Take Philip Marlowe in The Big Sleep. He’s not chasing justice because he believes in the system. He knows the system’s rigged. He’s not trying to solve a puzzle for the puzzle’s sake. Instead, he’s navigating a murky, dangerous world using nothing but his internal compass—and even that is dented and worn. He has a client, he has a job, and he has his honor.

What keeps the reader invested isn’t whether Marlowe will figure out who killed whom. It’s whether he’ll stick to his principles when the pressure’s on. Whether he’ll walk away clean or let the grime seep in.

In this way, a noir detective acts not because they know what to do, but because they know who they are.

Case Studies: The Detective’s Code in Action

Sam Spade (The Maltese Falcon)

Hammett’s foundational noir novel gives us a detective defined as much by what he withholds as what he reveals. The POV is objective omniscience, which means we never get access to Spade’s inner thoughts. Instead, the reader must measure his motives through expressions, evasions, and the impressions he leaves on others. From the outside, he can look like a man falling prey to corruption, but he’s not actually chasing a payday.

Spade figures out early on that Brigid O’Shaughnessy is behind his partner’s murder. Instead of tipping his hand, he keeps playing the long game—pressing for confessions, letting the guilty talk themselves into corners, and maneuvering the entire crew of liars and thieves toward justice. Brigid included.

He’s not chasing sentiment—he didn’t even like his partner. And he’s not chasing the multi-million-dollar falcon statuette—not for the money, at least. What drives him is a hard-edged integrity: his partner has been killed, and someone’s going to be held accountable.

We may not know exactly what Spade is thinking. But the shape of the story is carved by his choices. His code—unsentimental and unshakable—is what holds it all together.

Harry Dresden (Storm Front)

In Jim Butcher’s Storm Front, Harry Dresden is a modern wizard-for-hire, but he’s also cut from the same cloth as his noir predecessors. He’s broke, haunted, and deeply suspicious of authority. He mouths off to vampires, mobsters, and police captains alike.

But what anchors Dresden’s story is his code: he protects people. Even when they lie to him. Even when it gets him nearly killed.

He could walk away. He probably should. But he won’t—not if someone else is going to get hurt. That instinct is what drives the plot forward, even as the external mystery unravels in wild and unpredictable directions.

Kinsey Millhone (A Is for Alibi, et al.)

Kinsey Millhone might file her reports on a typewriter instead of narrating from a smoky bar, but she’s every inch a noir detective. She’s independent, emotionally guarded, and allergic to authority. She works alone, lives modestly, and prefers facts over sentiment.

And Kinsey has a code. She won’t take a case unless she believes in it. She won’t betray a client’s trust, even when pressured. And when she smells a lie, she digs—whether or not it’s in her best interest to do so.

What makes her so compelling is that her code isn’t flashy or self-righteous. It’s quiet, internal. She does the right thing because it’s the right thing, even when no one’s watching—and even when it comes at a cost.

Her cases unfold not because she’s chasing a killer through a series of clever deductions, but because she follows her gut, her principles, and a relentless need to understand what really happened. The mystery doesn’t drive her. She drives the mystery.

Crafting Your Protagonist’s Moral Code

If you’re writing mystery, suspense, or anything with a noir edge, consider setting aside your plot outline for a moment and focusing instead on your character’s internal rules.

Ask yourself:

• What does your protagonist believe in, even when no one else does?
• What line won’t they cross?
• What temptation would make them think about crossing it?

A strong internal code gives your character shape. But more importantly, it gives your story shape. Every decision they make in a chaotic world—every refusal, every sacrifice, every mistake—becomes plot.

Just make sure that code gets tested. That’s where the tension lives, and it’s also a powerful recipe for characterization.

The world will push. The code will bend. Will your character break?

Character is Plot—Especially in Noir

As F. Scott Fitzgerald said, “Plot is character, character is plot.” Character is at the heart of all fiction, but noir makes that connection unavoidable. If your protagonist isn’t compelling—if their decisions don’t mean something—the story falls apart.

But when they are compelling? When they believe something deeply, and that belief shapes every choice they make? The plot will take care of itself.

Noir doesn’t require clean arcs or clever twists. It doesn’t ask for puzzles. It asks for people—flawed, stubborn, desperate people—trying to hang onto some piece of themselves in a world that keeps trying to tear it away.

And that, for a writer, is gold.

David Griffin Brown is an award-winning short fiction writer and co-author of Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling and Story Skeleton: The Classics. He holds a BA in anthropology from UVic and an MFA in creative writing from UBC, and his writing has been published in literary magazines such as the Malahat Review and Grain. In 2022, he was the recipient of a New Artist grant from the Canada Council for the Arts. David founded Darling Axe Editing in 2018, and as part of his Book Broker interview series, he has compiled querying advice from over 100 literary agents. He lives in Victoria, Canada, on the traditional territory of the Songhees and Esquimalt Nations.