The Unforgiving Eye

I’ll admit I rolled my eyes at first—*another* Regency murder? But *The Unforgiving Eye* won me over in Chapter Two, when Lydia Savidge dismantled a witness’s alibi with a single archly delivered question about ‘the unfortunate placement of the rose arbor.’ Andrews writes dialogue that *sings*, and Powell’s performance makes it soar. Her Lydia is the standout: a woman who’s polite but never passive, her voice laced with the kind of amusement that suggests she’s three steps ahead of everyone (including, at times, the reader). The men fare just as well, particularly the slippery Sir Benedict, whose oily charm Powell renders with just enough silk to make his demise satisfying. That said, the middle act drags slightly—Andrews leans hard into red herrings, and one subplot about a missing snuffbox feels like padding. The audio editing is flawless, though I wished for more variation in background ambiance; a crackling fireplace or distant thunder during tense scenes would’ve elevated the immersion. Still, the payoff is worth it: the final confrontation is a masterclass in misdirection, and Powell’s delivery of the killer’s monologue is chillingly understated. If you love mysteries where the solution hinges on *character* as much as clues—and where the narration feels like a one-woman stage play—this is your next listen. Just don’t start it before bed unless you’re prepared to lose sleep.