The Lost Gallows

I’ll admit, I approached *The Lost Gallows* with skepticism. Carr’s locked-room mysteries can sometimes feel like chess problems dressed up in plot, but this one *breathes*. From the first chapter, Telfer’s narration hooks you—not with melodrama, but with a measured, almost clinical delivery that makes the supernatural undertones feel unsettlingly plausible. His Inspector Bencolin is a standout: a French detective who’s equal parts Sherlock Holmes and a man who’s seen one too many horrors to be surprised by anything. When he dryly remarks, *“The impossible, my friend, is merely the unconsidered,”* you believe him. The story’s pacing is where things get tricky. The first half is a slow burn, heavy on atmosphere and clubland gossip, which might frustrate listeners craving immediate action. But the payoff—a hanging in a sealed room, with no signs of entry or exit—is worth the wait. Carr’s solution is *brutally* clever, the kind that makes you kick yourself for not seeing it, and Telfer’s timing during the reveal is impeccable. My only real critique? The female characters are thinly sketched, even by golden-age standards, and Telfer’s voices for them occasionally veer into caricature. Still, the audiobook’s production is flawless—no distracting edits or volume spikes—just pure, immersive storytelling. If you’re a fan of Ruth Rendell’s psychological twists or Robert Aickman’s strange tales, this bridges the gap between detective fiction and gothic horror. Just don’t listen alone at night.