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Not long after this trip, Epstein’s assistant called to invite me for tea at
his house in New York, where Epstein, with what seemed to me little
understanding of the subject, began to ask me about media—the upside,
downside, and nature of media coverage. New York magazine was then
soliciting him for a profile, as was Vanity Fair, who had assigned the British
tabloid reporter, Vicki Ward, to the job.
Both profiles—New York’s by Landon Thomas—pivot on the Clinton
connection and detail the same quandary, how a man without clear
institutional bona fides nevertheless achieves wealth and influence. Ward—
who would more recently assert in the Daily Beast, that she was barred by
Vanity Fair from writing about under-age sex evidence (a fact that could be
read the other way: Vanity Fair, even looking to take down Epstein, did not
find the evidence credible or supportable)—follows a rabbit hole of
questionable contacts who might or might not have been the source or
sources for Epstein’s wealth, but gets no closer to an answer, beyond
confirming her own sense of dubiousness.
Epstein, sensing that he might be exposing himself, tried to stop the
process (Ward, often operatic about her journalistic exploits, says he
threatened her), called Carter and said he was having second thoughts about
being a public figure.
“Then you should live in a two bedroom apartment in Queens,”
responded Carter.
And then the troubles began.
Epstein, in man-who-can-have-everything fashion, and without the
remotest sense of observance or propriety—as though a kind of cultural
autism—has, for many years, ordered up a daily massage following his
workout sessions.
“Often these were massage massages,” says Epstein matter of factly,
“but sometimes these were happy ending massages, especially in Palm
Beach, where there are many massage parlors—‘Jack Shacks,’ they’re
called—that do outcalls. There was no sex. An often there was no happy
ending. Often I would be on the phone for the entire massage. There were
however a lot of massages and a lot of girls, with one girl recommending
others.”
It is after Epstein’s round of publicity and widely touted association
with Clinton, that the stepmother of one of the massage parlor girls,
identified as “SG” in court documents, who went to Epstein’s house (most of
the girls return to Epstein’s house many times) calls the police. The police
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