Look, I need to rant about something. Lucy Foley keeps writing locked-room mysteries where every single character is hiding something, and every single time I tell myself I won't fall for the formula again. And every single time I'm sitting there at 1 AM with Shirley glaring at me because my headphones are leaking audio and I'm too wired to sleep. Paryski apartament — the Polish edition of The Paris Apartment — got me again.
I was shelving returns at the library on a slow Tuesday afternoon, one earbud in (don't tell my supervisor), and Kamilla Baar's voice pulled me into this crumbling Parisian building so fast I nearly filed a biography in the romance section. By the time my shift ended, I'd burned through five hours and was genuinely irritated I had to drive home without knowing what happened to Ben.
Everybody's Lying and Nobody's Interesting Enough to Justify It
Here's the thing about Foley's structure that both works and frustrates me: she rotates perspectives through the residents of this old Parisian apartment building — the socialite, the creepy loner, the alcoholic, the woman on the edge, the concierge. Each chapter peels back a layer. Each character is withholding something. It's an Agatha Christie setup filtered through a modern thriller sensibility, and Foley knows exactly how to dangle a hook at the end of every section.
But — and this is where I get cranky — some of these characters feel more like chess pieces than people. Jess, our protagonist, arrives in Paris running from her own past, finds her half-brother Ben missing, and starts digging. Good setup. Solid mystery engine. The problem is that a few of the supporting cast members exist primarily to be suspects rather than to feel like humans who happen to be suspicious. The concierge, for instance, radiates menace in a way that's effective but a little too convenient. I wanted more texture there, more ambiguity that came from character rather than from withheld information.
The mystery itself, though? It works. Foley is genuinely good at the slow reveal, letting you think you've figured it out around hour six and then pulling the rug. The Paris setting does heavy lifting — that old building with its creaking elevator and dim stairwells creates exactly the kind of claustrophobic dread I live for. This understands that horror isn't about gore — it's about dread. And while this isn't horror per se, Foley borrows from the genre's toolbox in the best way. That slow atmospheric pressure reminded me of what Craig Johnson does in Daughter of the Morning Star — dread built from landscape and silence rather than anything that bleeds.
Kamilla Baar Carries the Weight
Now, I have to be honest — I couldn't find much critical discussion of Baar's specific performance in this edition, and the English-language versions of this book feature a full cast, which is a very different listening experience. Baar is working solo here for nearly eleven hours, and that's a serious commitment when you've got this many POV characters.
What I can say: she handles the rotating perspectives with enough vocal distinction that I never lost track of whose chapter I was in. Her Jess has this low-key tension running underneath — not hysterical, not flat, just... wary. Which is right. Jess is a character who's been burned and knows better than to trust anyone, and Baar lets that wariness sit in the voice without overselling it. She commits. That's rare.
Where it gets trickier is in the male voices. Single-narrator audiobooks always face this challenge, and Baar doesn't try to do deep-voiced caricatures — she adjusts tone and cadence instead. It mostly works, though there were a couple of moments where I had to rewind to catch who was speaking in a dialogue-heavy scene. Not a dealbreaker, but worth noting if you're listening while distracted.
Who Gets the Keys to This Apartment (And Who Should Walk Away)
If you loved The Guest List or The Hunting Party, this is Foley doing what she does best — just with a Parisian coat of paint. If you're the kind of listener who likes piecing together a puzzle while each chapter drops a new clue, you'll eat this up. If you need deeply complex characters to drive your mysteries, or if you get frustrated by the "everyone has a secret" structure feeling a bit mechanical, this might leave you wanting. And if you're comparing to the English full-cast version, know that you're trading that immersive multi-voice production for Baar's solo interpretation — different experience, different strengths.
Shirley Jackson Didn't Walk So Lucy Foley Could Sprint, But She's Moving at a Solid Jog
My podcast listeners are going to love this — not because it reinvents the wheel, but because it's a well-oiled wheel spinning in a gorgeous setting. Foley knows her craft. The mystery lands. The atmosphere is thick enough to cut with a knife. Baar does solid, committed work carrying eleven hours on her own voice. It's not the kind of audiobook that haunts you for weeks after, but it's the kind that makes you miss your subway stop. And honestly? Sometimes that's exactly what you need.
Shirley (my cat) was unimpressed. I was hooked.
