She’d worked so hard on the piece, gotten so stressed out that one of her twins had begun to grow more slowly than the other. On doctor’s orders, she’d been put on bed rest.
“Why?” she asked when she got to speak to Carter directly.
“He’s sensitive about the young women. And we still get to run most of the piece.”
In her notebook, Ward wrote down the rest of what Carter had said: “I believe him,” he told her. “I’m Canadian.”
But the piece that came out, in the March issue, still created a sensation. It was called “The Talented Mr. Epstein” in a sly reference to Patricia Highsmith’s celebrated suspense novel The Talented Mr. Ripley. The film adaptation, by Anthony Minghella, was still fresh in the minds of Vanity Fair’s readers. For Graydon Carter, just posing the question Is Epstein some sort of scam artist, like Ripley? had been question enough. And throughout the piece, there were ironies readers wouldn’t miss as they drew their own conclusions about Epstein’s life story. It came through clearly in the first line of the last paragraph of Ward’s 7,500-word story: “Many people comment there is something innocent, almost childlike about Jeffrey Epstein.”
In context, the word innocent was rather ironic—so much so that it almost became its own opposite.
CHAPTER 39
Todd Meister: June 2015
Harry Cipriani, on Fifth Avenue, is a New York institution. The restaurant began its life as an American outpost of Harry’s Bar—which was itself a famous American outpost in Venice. Located inside the Sherry-Netherland hotel, it’s a theme restaurant—the theme being money. And today, a hedge-fund manager named Todd Meister is talking about a very wealthy man—Jeffrey Epstein—whom he knows through his father, Epstein’s sometime friend Bob Meister.
“I’ve known Jeffrey since I was nineteen,” Meister says. “So let me tell you what I know—whatever everyone knows and everybody else says. First off, he’s no billionaire. Second off—and here’s why—he has no clue how to invest. He has people do that for him.”
Meister knows how to invest. He does it for other people and, as the son of a superrich father, for himself. He also knows about the good life. Parties in Vegas; weekends in the Hamptons; affairs with beautiful women that end up getting splashed all over the tabloids.
It makes sense that, once upon a time, he and Epstein would have gotten along.
“As for the girls,” Meister says, “that was just business. He’d seat them strategically at client dinners. When he went to the movies, he’d take three or four girls with him. They’d take turns massaging his back, arms, and legs.”
According to Meister, Epstein used to boast that he “liked to go into insane asylums because he liked to fuck crazy women.”
“Who knows if it’s true?” Meister adds. “But I’m telling you, he used to say it.”
From time to time, Epstein’s friends and acquaintances would see sides of Epstein that he’d grown much less shy about sharing.
Epstein encouraged Alan Dershowitz to invest with a prominent hedge-fund manager named Orin Kramer. Dershowitz did, and he made a lot of money at first. But in 2008, the fund Dershowitz had invested in lost a substantial amount. Afterward, according to a former associate of Epstein’s, Epstein appeared in Kramer’s midtown Manhattan office. There, sources say, he told Kramer: “It’s very much in your interest to make Alan Dershowitz whole.”
Epstein’s intervention worked, and Dershowitz recovered his money.
To people who’d known Epstein back in the 1980s, this kind of behavior was out of character. But the thing about Epstein was that you never could figure him out. One minute he was charming. The most charming man you’d ever meet. The next he was snarl, threat, and bluster. Something didn’t add up. So you’d run the numbers: this many parties, that many women. Even with the connection to Victoria’s Secret, the women didn’t add up, either.
Throw in the modeling agency, it makes more sense. Then you plug in the parties. The scene brings Eyes Wide Shut to mind. But the thing is, Eyes Wide Shut only works in the shadows. For Epstein, getting on that plane with Clinton was more like a moment in Caddyshack—the one in which the groundhog peeks out from his hole in the golf course. From there on in, Jeffrey Epstein was like the mole in a game of whack-a-mole. It was only a matter of time before he’d be caught. But the question you had to ask yourself was, are people like Epstein born without morals? Or are their morals like snakeskin—just something they shed (along with all the other basic, day-to-day concerns that everyday working people have) as they make their way into that Eyes Wide Shut world?
Todd Meister, who was married to Nicky Hilton and stole the heiress Samantha Boardman away from Condé Nast’s former editorial director James Truman, should know. He wonders out loud:
“How does a yutz like Epstein get beautiful women?”
At Harry Cipriani, the question lingers in the air.
PART IV
The Investigation
CHAPTER 40
Michael Reiter: January 2006
As far as Michael Reiter’s concerned, the case that his team has built against Epstein—slowly, meticulously, over the course of an entire year—is airtight. Even now, Detective Recarey’s finding new pieces of evidence. And already Reiter’s been laying the groundwork with prosecutors. State attorney Barry Krischer has a reputation for toughness. He’s known, nationally, for his prosecution of juvenile offenders. And Reiter’s been keeping him abreast of the investigation. With Jeffrey Epstein, it’s not simply a matter of seeing him punished. It’s a matter of getting a sexual predator off the streets of Palm Beach.
Krischer assures the chief that he’s taking this case very seriously.
The state attorney’s office will have Reiter’s back at every turn.
“I told him that we had an investigation that was very serious that involved a very noteworthy person and that involved a number of underage females,” Reiter would say in his deposition for the suit that was later settled by Epstein. “That it was of a sexual nature. I was concerned that we had not reached all of the victims, and we hadn’t, I’m sure, at this point. I told him that I felt like the suspect would probably become aware of the investigation at some point and that we should probably expect some contact from…Mr. Epstein’s lawyers. And I told him that I wanted to keep him very well informed on this and that I hoped that he would do the same. And that we would have to have more contact in making sure it was handled responsibly, intelligently, and appropriately as it moved forward.”
Reiter would say that Epstein’s name did not seem to ring a bell with the state attorney. But shortly afterward, the chief became aware that in certain powerful circles his investigation was being looked upon unfavorably. “I had many people-related conversations…on the cocktail-party circuit that suggested we approach this in a way that wasn’t necessary,” he would say.
Michael Reiter was a good cop. A good man. But he was about to discover that when it came to men with the power and influence Epstein wielded, fairness under the law was a relative, malleable concept.
CHAPTER 41
Detective Recarey: February 2006
For months, Joe Recarey’s been interviewing girls who’d been brought to Epstein’s house, subpoenaing telephone and car-rental records, conducting surveillance. Ultimately, according to a source within the Palm Beach PD, the department would identify forty-seven underage girls who’d been molested on El Brillo Way.
Recarey interviewed one of Epstein’s pilots, a man named David Rogers, as well as Epstein’s houseman, Alfredo Rodriguez. He also spoke to a woman who really was a massage therapist.
It turned out that Epstein paid just one hundred dollars for actual Swedish deep-tissue massages that the therapist provided for him and his friends, the lawyer Alan Dershowitz among them.
Did anything untoward ever happen? Recarey asked. Had Epstein ever asked the woman to rub his chest?
No, she told him. She wasn’t Epstein’s type. The girls she’d seen at
his house were very thin and beautiful and did not have tattoos. This massage therapist had several tattoos that were visible, and on quite a few occasions Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell had made negative comments about them.
According to a Palm Beach Police Department Incident Report filed by Recarey on July 25, 2006, the detective had also heard from Mary’s father, who said that a private eye had been to his house, photographing his family and chasing visitors away.
Mary’s dad had gotten the license plate—Florida E79-4EG.
Recarey traced it back to one Ivan Robles of West Palm Beach. Robles turned out to be a licensed private investigator.
Recarey informed the state’s attorney’s office.
Alison also contacted Recarey and told him that she’d been approached by someone who was in touch with Epstein. Alison had been told that she’d receive money if she would refuse to cooperate with the police.
Those who help him will be compensated, she was told, according to Detective Recarey’s incident report. “And those who hurt him will be dealt with.”
Recarey reassured the girl and told her that tampering with a witness in a case like this was a serious, arrestable offense.
Then he told an assistant state attorney.
The detective was leaving no i undotted and no t uncrossed.
But he did wonder if the state attorney’s office itself had become part of the problem.
CHAPTER 42
Barry Krischer: April 2006
State attorney Barry Krischer was an elected official, but before taking his post, he’d been a lawyer in private practice in and around Palm Beach. Elected twice to his office, in 1992 and 1996, he had run unopposed for state attorney in 2000 and 2004. During the course of his long career, which began in 1970 with a three-year stint in the district attorney’s office in Brooklyn, he received a number of awards: the pro bono award from the Legal Aid Society of Palm Beach County for his service with the juvenile justice system and for his work with the child protection team; the Peace at Home award, presented by Governor Jeb Bush, for his work with victims of family violence; a lifetime achievement award from the Florida Bar. He was a board member of the National District Attorneys Association. And he was not necessarily averse to going after the rich and powerful. In 2003, he launched an investigation into Rush Limbaugh’s use of, and means of obtaining, oxycodone and hydrocodone. (A few years after Limbaugh’s arrest, which coincided with Chief Reiter’s investigation into Jeffrey Epstein, the talk-show host settled with prosecutors, agreed to submit to random drug testing, and gave up his firearms permit.)
Krischer himself, however, had been accused of sexual misconduct.
In October of 1992, Jodi Bergeron, a legal secretary who’d worked for Krischer, filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against him in the Palm Beach County circuit court. That suit was dismissed, but a few months later, the woman took Krischer to federal court, accusing him of making unwanted advances and demanding recompense for battery, negligence, invasion of privacy, and emotional distress.
Krischer had placed his hands, violently, inside her blouse, the woman said. He’d forcibly fondled her breasts, forcibly kissed her, and rubbed her shoulders while brushing her buttocks with his hands and knees, all while accompanying the gestures with verbal advances.
When she declined those advances, the woman claimed, Krischer fired her.
Krischer denied the allegations. At the time, he was making his first run for the state attorney’s office. The charges were politically motivated, he said. Members of a local chapter of NOW—the National Organization for Women—had stood by the lawyer, citing his efforts to stop domestic violence, among his other virtues.
“I am here to support Barry Krischer for the work his office did in my daughter’s case,” one woman said during a rally that took place in front of the courthouse. “Her murderer received the maximum sentence, a life sentence.”
The second lawsuit had also been dismissed—after Krischer’s former law firm agreed to pay Bergeron’s attorney seven thousand dollars in legal fees.
Now Chief Reiter and Detective Recarey were beginning to have their own questions about Barry Krischer. The Palm Beach PD wanted to charge Epstein with one count of lewd and lascivious behavior and four counts of unlawful sexual activity with a minor—felony charges that would have amounted to years behind bars in the case of a conviction. Wendy Dobbs and Sarah Kellen would be charged as accomplices.
This was not the plan that Krischer seemed to have in mind for Jeffrey Epstein.
In cases involving the sexual abuse of minors, prosecuting attorneys tend to have suspects arrested, then push for a trial. But instead of granting his approval for an arrest, Krischer told the police that he would convene a grand jury, which would be asked to consider a broad range of charges.
In a case such as Epstein’s, this was highly unusual. Not damning in and of itself. But very strange. In Florida, grand juries are only required in capital cases. At the state attorney’s discretion, they may also be called in controversial cases—for instance, cases involving crimes committed by public officials. But Jeffrey Epstein wasn’t a public official, and as far as the Palm Beach PD was concerned, the only controversial thing about the case they’d built was that Epstein was rich and well connected. In his deposition for B.B. vs. Epstein, Chief Reiter rel ayed Krischer’s concerns: the prosecutor had to make sure that his case was solid, beyond a reasonable doubt. And Krischer did have his doubts about the credibility of the young women who’d be called to testify against Epstein.
Even so, Reiter was beginning to wonder if Krischer was stacking the deck in Epstein’s favor—if, thanks to the sway prosecutors have over grand juries, assembling such a jury wasn’t an excellent way to let Epstein off with the lightest punishment possible.
Another unusual thing: the way Barry Krischer and the lawyers working for him ignored Chief Reiter’s multiple phone calls as well as Detective Recarey’s—even though the police had been hearing from Epstein’s own lawyers.
“[Krischer] and I had an excellent relationship,” Chief Reiter said in his deposition. “I was the speaker at his swearing-in ceremony. And that he wouldn’t return my phone calls—I mean, it was clear to me by his actions that he could not objectively look at this case.”
In the incident report he ended up writing, Detective Recarey remembered a phone call that he received from Guy Fronstin, one of the lawyers representing Epstein.
It was a message Epstein wanted to send, something central to the case that demanded explanation. The whole shit show swirling around him was just a misunderstanding—a misrepresentation—of Epstein’s actual interests and intentions.
Fronstin says Mr. Epstein is very passionate about massages, Detective Recarey would write.
And: Mr. Epstein had donated over $100,000 to the Ballet of Florida for massages.
And: The massages are therapeutic and spiritually sound for him. That is why he has had so many massages.
CHAPTER 43
Palm Beach Police Department Incident Report Filed by Detective Joseph Recarey: July 25, 2006
On April 13 and April 14, 2006, I attempted contact on several occasions with ASA [assistant state attorney Daliah] Weiss and ASA [Lanna] Belohlavek to ascertain when the victims needed to report for Grand Jury testimony. Messages were left on their voicemail. On April 17, 2006, during the hours of 9:00 am and 11:30 am I again left messages for ASA Weiss and ASA Belohlavek for either of them to return my call as I had not heard from the State Attorney’s Office as to the time and date of the Grand Jury.
At approximately 12:30 pm, I went to the State Attorney’s Office and Located ASA Weiss and ASA Belohlavek in their offices. I entered ASA Belohlavek’s office who informed me that she was going to return my call. She explained that an offer was made to the Defense, Atty Guy Fronstin and Atty Alan Dershowitz. The offer is 1 count of Agg Assault with intent to commit a felony, five years probation, with adjudication withheld. Epstein would have to submit to psychia
tric/sexual evaluation and no unsupervised visits with minors. When asked about all the other victims, ASA Belohlavek stated that was the only offer made as to one victim, [Mary]. ASA Belohlavek[’s] cell phone rang and went to voice mail. She checked her voice mail and played the message on speaker. The caller identified himself as Atty Guy Fronstin and acknowledged the deal made between them. Fronstin stated in the message, he spoke with his client, Jeffrey Epstein, and would agree to this deal. Fronstin asked to call off the grand jury as they would accept this deal. Belohlavek stated a probable cause would be needed to book Epstein in the county Jail and would let me know as to when it was needed. I explained my disapproval of the deal and not being consulted prior to the deal being offered. However I expressed that was only my opinion and the final approval would come from the Chief of Police. She explained to have Chief Reiter call Barry Krischer about the deal. I left the area and returned to the police station where I briefed the Chief about the deal offered.
I checked my voice mail messages and discovered a message from [the] stepmother for the victim [Mary]. She was calling because the State Attorney’s Office still had not returned any of her calls as to when they are needed for this case. I then called ASA Belohlavek’s office and left messages for her to call the victims on this case and explain to them what the State Attorney’s Office had done.
CHAPTER 44
Michael Reiter: May 2006
A plea offer?
Chief Reiter is outraged. His team has logged thou-sands of hours of work. They’ve assembled mountains of evidence. But instead of going to trial, the state attorney wants to see Epstein get off with a misdemeanor, five years of probation, and a psych exam.