Something in the 'Air That Kills'

Review of AN AIR THAT KILLS (IPL 1985) by Margaret Millar

Margaret Millar was without question a talented writer of mystery and suspense novels. Wife of Kenneth Millar (better known as Ross MacDonald), some say she exceeded her husband in writing ability, if not in fame among the general public.

AN AIR THAT KILLS makes great reading, too. Millar had a way with dialogue—her characters could be pathetic, sarcastic, annoying or droll and she had an eye for detail and an ear for the spoken word that just nailed each of them.

And Millar could set you up like no one else. Her stories had a way of leading you down a primrose path, only to leave you staring at a trash heap, realizing she really had you going all along. And the clues to where you ended up were all hiding in plain sight, in retrospect. These things are all true, if you aren’t already familiar with her work.

See, I’ve already read Millar before—HOW LIKE AN ANGEL, another convoluted story that kept the reader guessing up to the last line, no less—and actually figured out the big surprise before I got to that line. So, when she laid the surprising finish on in this story, I wasn’t quite as shocked as I might have been if I didn’t already know how Millar tended to write.

I enjoyed AN AIR THAT KILLS—the writing is superb, the dialogue crackles, the plot intrigues. What bothered me was the premise—in the end, I just found the whole setup a teeny bit hard to swallow. Without spoiling anything for others who wish to read it, I’d love to know if anyone else who knows the story felt a similar sense of anti-climactic disbelief in the ending. All comments are welcome.