Blue Cross

So I'm doing dishes—like, elbow-deep in soap suds—and I realize I've got exactly 48 minutes before I need to pick up my kid. Perfect. Time for a quick listen. I'd been meaning to check out the Father Brown stories for years (yes, years, don't judge me), and "The Blue Cross" seemed like the obvious starting point. First story in the series. Under an hour. Let's go.

And honestly? This little gem reminded me why I fell in love with classic detective fiction in the first place.

The Mystery Unfolds

Here's the thing about Chesterton—the man could write. Like, genuinely write. The setup is deceptively simple: Aristide Valentin, head of the Paris Police, is hunting Flambeau, this legendary criminal who's basically a master of disguise. The target? A priceless silver cross with blue stones. Standard stuff, right?

Wrong.

What makes this story sing is the misdirection. You think you're following a straightforward cat-and-mouse chase through London, but Chesterton keeps pulling the rug out from under you. The clues are weird—salt thrown in sugar bowls, soup splashed on walls, windows broken from the inside. It's absurd. It's deliberate. And by the time you realize what Father Brown has been doing the whole time, you feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

(In the best possible way.)

The prose has that Victorian-era density to it, sure, but it never drags. At 48 minutes, there's no filler. Every scene, every odd detail, every seemingly random observation—it all clicks into place. I finished the dishes and just stood there in my kitchen, dripping hands and all, grinning like an idiot.

Michael Scott's Take

Okay, so the narration. I couldn't find a ton of background on this particular Michael Scott (not that Michael Scott, obviously), but based on this performance, the guy knows what he's doing with period material. His pacing is measured—almost leisurely—which works perfectly for Chesterton's style. You need that breathing room to catch the wit, the irony, the little verbal winks the author throws in.

The character differentiation is... fine? It's not the most dramatic range I've ever heard. Valentin sounds appropriately French and intense, Father Brown comes across as mild and unassuming (which is the whole point), and Flambeau has this theatrical energy when he finally reveals himself. But I'll be honest—there were a couple of dialogue exchanges where I had to rewind and figure out who was speaking. Not a dealbreaker for a 48-minute story, but worth mentioning.

What Scott absolutely nails is the tone. Chesterton's writing has this playful intelligence to it, and Scott leans into that without overdoing it. He's not winking at the camera, but you can tell he's enjoying the material. That enjoyment is contagious.

Fair Warning

Look, if you're expecting a modern thriller pace, this isn't it. The language is dense. Victorian. There are sentences that take their sweet time getting to the point. Some listeners find that charming (hi, that's me); others find it tedious. I've seen reviews complaining about the narration being "slow and plodding," and I get it—if you're used to contemporary audiobooks at 1.5x speed, this will feel like wading through honey.

Also, the audio production on some of these public domain recordings can be hit or miss. This version is clean—no weird background noise or distortion that I noticed—but it's definitely not a high-budget production with atmospheric sound design. It's just a guy reading a story. Sometimes that's exactly what you want.

Who Should Listen

This is perfect for:

• Classic mystery fans who want to see where Father Brown began
• Anyone curious about Chesterton but intimidated by his longer works
• Commuters with exactly 48 minutes to kill (seriously, the timing is chef's kiss)
• Readers who appreciate clever plotting over action-heavy thrills

Maybe skip if:

• Victorian prose makes your eyes glaze over
• You need explicit character voice differentiation to follow dialogue
• You're looking for something to half-listen to while doing other stuff (this one rewards attention)

The Verdict

I walked away from this wanting more Father Brown. Like, immediately. Which I guess means Chesterton did his job over a century ago, and this audiobook version does it justice. It's short, it's clever, it's got that satisfying "oh, that's what was happening" moment at the end. Michael Scott's narration won't blow your mind, but it serves the material well.

For a free (or nearly free) introduction to one of detective fiction's most beloved characters? Yeah. This is worth your 48 minutes. I'm already queuing up the next one.

(My dishes have never been so clean.)