The Hitmen

Barry McStay’s narration of *The Hitmen* is a masterclass in restraint, but not in the way you’d expect. His voice isn’t warm or inviting—it’s efficient, like a man reading aloud from a wanted poster. That tone works for the Wilson family’s story, though, because these weren’t charismatic mobsters spinning tales over whiskey. They were cold operators taking orders, and McStay’s flat, authoritative delivery mirrors their lack of affect. The audiobook’s pacing is relentless, swinging between courtroom testimony and offhand comments about hits gone sideways, all delivered with a matter-of-factness that borders on clinical. It’s effective, but I found myself wishing for more emotional beats—just a flicker of outrage or sorrow—to ground the chaos. The Wilsons’ crimes aren’t the stuff of *Goodfellas* glamour. Breen avoids mythmaking entirely, opting instead for a stitchwork of Garda reports and survivor accounts that feel like raw, unprocessed evidence. The audiobook’s strongest section details their botched hit on a Dublin pub owner in 2002, where incompetence and bad luck turned a professional job into a bloodbath. McStay’s voice tightens here, and you can hear the exasperation of a man reading about sheer stupidity. The only critique? The sheer number of names and cases can blur together in the middle act, and McStay’s narration doesn’t always provide enough vocal distinction to keep everyone straight. Still, this isn’t an audiobook you listen to for comfort—it’s a brutal ledger of a family that treated murder like a 9-to-5, and McStay’s performance ensures you never forget it.