Im Wald

I’ll admit: 20 hours is a *commitment* for an audiobook, and *Im Wald* tests that patience early. The first act is deliberate to a fault—Neuhaus spends nearly three hours establishing the rhythm of rural police work, the bureaucracy, the false leads. I found myself checking the time stamp, wondering when the *real* story would start. But here’s the thing: that *is* the story. By the time the body count rises and the forest’s secrets start to surface, you’re so immersed in the world that the payoff hits like a gut punch. Siebeck’s narration is a huge part of why this works. He doesn’t *perform* so much as *inhabit* the text, his delivery as controlled as Bodenstein’s temper. When he voices Pia’s internal monologues, there’s a weariness that makes her feel real—no melodrama, just the exhaustion of a cop who’s seen too much. The standout sequences? Any scene set in the woods. Neuhaus writes nature like a horror director: the snap of a twig isn’t just a sound, it’s a threat. Siebeck’s pacing here is flawless—he lets the silences breathe, so when violence erupts, it’s jarring. My only real critique is the subplot involving Bodenstein’s personal life, which feels tacked on compared to the main mystery. And while the ending ties up neatly, it lacks the ambiguous bite of the best Nordic noir. Still, for fans of *Tatort* or *The Bridge*, this is catnip: a procedural that respects your intelligence, a narrator who trusts the material, and a setting so vivid you’ll swear you smell pine needles. Just don’t expect fireworks—expect the slow, creeping realization that evil doesn’t announce itself. It waits in the trees.