Fresh from solving the murder of a fashion magnate’s wife in Live at 10:00, Dead at 10:15, TV newsmagazine producer Sonya Iverson returns in Shooting Script, another luxurious thriller from Elsa Klensch. Once again working on a "puff piece," this time about the opening of a new luxury spa headed by the third and youngest wife of Errol Swanson, former head of Sonya’s own network, Sonya decides to put her frustration to good use. She’s an investigative reporter—so she’ll investigate. And there’s plenty of dirt to dig. For one thing, the head honchos at the network all seem scared of Errol—even Donna Fuller, Sonya’s boss and a crusading journalist, treads softly where Errol is concerned. Rumors claim that Donna and Errol had an affair, and Errol’s made a heavy-handed pass at Sonya. Then there are the wives. Wife #1, Joan, is eating herself to death and trying desperately to wrest control of her family toy business away from her supposedly retired ex-husband. Craig, her son with Errol, disappeared a decade ago and is presumed dead; his twin sister, Christy, is mentally and emotionally unstable and has been the family scapegoat for years. Wife #2, Margot, is a successful fashion designer who still lives in fear of Errol’s notoriously violent temper. He’s got his hooks into her business too, and the loans are due. Margot brings a gun to the spa, to protect herself and her charming son, Tomas. Tomas, a budding fashion model, wants his father to accept him, but his homosexuality disgusts Errol, and the two men have never had a civil conversation. Wife #3, Lara, seems to be full of love and human kindness. She’s engineered a family reunion along with the spa opening in an attempt to reconcile her husband with his wives and children before her own baby is born. Learning of Errol’s past cruelties, Lara does her best to soften her hard-headed husband, but his unusual sexual demands have begun to wear on her soul. Lara has secrets of her own, a dark past that may soon be exposed. Rounding out the family gathering are Errol’s Aunt Tracey, who knows where the bodies are buried—perhaps literally—and Sonya’s fellow reporter Frank O’Neill, who has a deeply personal connection to Lara and who is preparing a book-length expose of Errol Swanson. When Errol is found, shot to death while tied to the bed he and Lara shared, the morning after a family dinner marked by vituperation and violence, local police have an abundance of suspects. But Sonya is already several steps ahead of the official investigation. She’s determined to find out who killed the mogul . . . and get her scoop on the air.
Born 21 February 1933 in Springwood, which is located on a 90 minutes drive west of Sydney.
Occupation Journalist, novelist Notable Credits Sydney Sunday Telegraph; Australian Broadcasting, London; Public Information Officer for the Territory of Papua and New Guinea; Editor Hong KongTrade Bulletin; Editor Women's Wear Daily; Sr. Fashion Editor at Vogue, Harper's Bazaar; NYPost Fashion and Beauty Editor; WCBS-TV Reporter; CNN Producer; Host of Style with Elsa Klensch 1980–2000; Author (with Beryl Meyer) of Style and four mystery novels.
Years Active 1958–present
Spouse Charles Hugh Klensch.
Family Father Johann Ernst Aeschbacher (1896–1943) born in Bern Switzerland, and Mary Margaret Miles (1898–1980) born in Sydney, Australia.
Elsa Klensch is an Australian American journalist and novelist, author and television personality, the daughter of Johann Ernest and Mary. She was born in a small town north of Sydney. She is the wife of Charles Klensch whom she met in Hong Kong while he was on leave from his post as Saigon news bureau manager for the American Broadcasting Company (ABC). They were married in 1966 in wartime Saigon and then settled in New York
This book was dumb and silly. I read it on vacation, and despite being half drunk on vodka lemonade and sun overexposure by 11am every day, I still felt it fell below the laughably low bar of quality in writing and plot construction required of even the trashiest of beach reads. Indeed, when it came time to find kindling to start a bonfire and we realized we had no newspaper in the house, I eagerly volunteered my copy of Shooting Script. Sorry Elsa; don't quit your day job.