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Then, just before the New Year, Epstein forwarded me a heads-up
email that Alan Dershowtiz, one of Epstein’s long time friends—they have a
bickering brotherly relationship—and occasional legal advisors, had
received from a reporter at Politico and forwarded to Epstein. The Politico
reporter had been following Epstein-related court filings (there is a
determined contingent of Epstein reporters) and found a new one added to
an old law suit with some rather jaw-dropping, if not preposterous, recent
allegations.
This seemed to me to be merely a desperate, even comic-book,
filing—yjust a lawyer trying to revive a dead case.
Eight years after the original filing, a Florida lawyer was now seeking
to add new plaintiffs to the old case, accompanied by sensational allegations
connecting a catch-all of bold-faced names associated with Epstein,
including Dershowtiz and Britain’s Prince Andrew, to a “sex slave” ring.
I responded to Epstein that I doubted this would be seen as credible by
anyone.
Epstein, who sometimes seems to have an out-of-body attitude to his
own fate and bad press, said he thought it might be “quite a show.”
Two days later, the Daily Mail, which has become the effective
ground zero in the English language for anti-privilege, and moral
opprobrium (the more salacious the better), and whose editor Paul Dacre has
a long time feud with Prince Andrew, put the story on its front page.
(Epstein also has a long relationship with the family of disgraced press
baron, Robert Maxwell, another reliable target of the British press.) Flimsy
and far-fetched court filings in the U.S. by settlement-hungry plaintiffs
might be discounted by skeptical U.S. reporters, but, the U.K. media,
constrained by onerous rules about legal proceedings in the U.K., promptly
went into tabloid frenzy (even the normally sniffy Guardian, in full anti-
royal and anti- billionaire fever, joined the tabloid show) and effectively
exported the story back to the U.S., where Epstein’s connection to Bill
Clinton, and, hence as a shadow over Hillary, became the news.
“T told you,” said Epstein.
There is Epstein in his inner world, trying, quite ostrich like, not to
look out. Little beyond his strict realm seems palatable or even in a sense
familiar to him. He’s a foreigner out here. Not too long ago, I met him for
lunch in the West Village, the first time in more than ten years, he pointed
out, he’d been to lunch in a restaurant (a not particularly pleasant experience
for him and we were out in 30 minutes).
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