Relentless Pursuit

by Bradley J. Edwards

  Did some powerful person have Epstein murdered to avoid Epstein using whatever blackmail information he had accumulated over the years to lighten what was sure to be a hefty prison sentence? Or was he killed by intelligence agencies to prevent him from revealing top secret spy information?

  During Epstein’s one month in jail, he had become known throughout the country and well beyond as the most notorious of pedophiles ever to live. No pedophile is safe in prison, so to say he was not too popular with other prisoners would likely be a huge understatement. If being a pedophile were not bad enough, Epstein also pulled a trick similar to the one he had perfected during his Florida jail time. He hustled lawyers in to visit him all day long, occupying one of the few private meeting rooms most of the day and apparently emptying out the snack machine during these extended visits. Money was no issue for Epstein, so he could pay for lawyers to visit around the clock. I can’t imagine that behavior increased his popularity. It was later reported that even the guards were unhappy with his entitled conduct. They, in turn, reportedly threw his meals on the cell floor.

  Every day a new article would go to print, and the conspiracies multiplied. As Epstein’s alleged connections to former presidents, Middle Eastern dignitaries, the British royal family, other billionaires, the CIA, and Mossad became known, his brother and lawyers made clear they believed it was murder, and that many people had motives. I personally believe he killed himself. He was a selfish, manipulative control freak who was never going to let the world ridicule him. When Jeffrey made up his mind to do something, he did it. He’d made up his mind weeks earlier, when he’d first attempted suicide. He was not going to fail the second time.

  With Epstein dead, the United States Attorney’s Office was left with no choice but to file a motion to dismiss the criminal charges against him. Judge Berman issued an order setting the hearing for August 27, 2019, and, recognizing the rights of crime victims to be present at these important events, he ended his notice of the hearing by stating, “Counsel for the victims and the victims will also be heard, if they wish to be.”

  I called Courtney, who was feeling robbed over the fact that Epstein had escaped justice again. I told her that victims and their counsel would be allowed at the hearing. “I’m going, and I want to make sure everyone who wants to be there gets to be there this time,” she insisted.

  I then began calling all my other clients before telling prosecutors Alison Moe and Maurene Comey (daughter of former FBI director James Comey) that I had many clients who wanted a chance to address the court at the hearing. “All of the victims who want to come should be able to come. The hearing is being held on such short notice, though, and it’s very expensive to travel. Can you ask the government to pay for all who want to come?” I pleaded.

  “The government has never done that before. But we will ask,” responded the lead prosecutor.

  “This case is not typical,” I explained. “We fought eleven years for these victims and for the opportunity for them to address the court. This is the last hearing. The last chance. It will go a long way in making up for the injustice done in the past. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Within the hour, I got a call back: “Please tell your clients that the government has agreed to pay for the travel and hotels of all Epstein victims who wish to attend.” Courtney was ecstatic when I told her the news.

  Brittany was on a family vacation with her fiancé, Jose, in Greece. When she got to her next port, she checked in, and I gave her the news. “I’m going,” she said.

  “It’s in five days—you’ll still be on your cruise,” I reminded her.

  She hung up the phone. A few hours later she called back. “I’m getting off in Croatia. I’m flying to Germany and then from Germany to New York. With the time change, I can make it. I’ll fly back and meet my family in Greece after the hearing.”

  I paused for a moment. Sensing that this meant I thought that she was crazy, she said, “Give me a break, Brad. You wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world. You’ve worked for these girls for more than ten years to give them this chance, and I’ve worked my entire legal career for it. There’s no way I am missing this. I’ll be there.” She was right. I would have done the same thing.

  * * *

  There was already so much media attention that the day before the hearing the location was moved from Judge Berman’s usual courtroom to the oversize ceremonial courtroom at the Foley Square courthouse. The change in location made the media suspicious that this would be more than a mundane dismissal of criminal charges. Since an objective for most of our clients was to be a part of the hearing without being cornered by the media, I ignored the hundreds of media inquiries about whether any victims were showing up.

  On August 26, I arrived in New York and got to the hotel where Jay Howell, an attorney known in many circles as the godfather of crime victim advocates and a close friend who had also represented Epstein victims for years, was already waiting for me. Brittany arrived soon after, and the three of us started fielding calls from Epstein victims flying in from all over the world. They had concerns, most of which dealt with their fear of being filmed or photographed before or after the hearing.

  That night, Jay, Brittany, and I went to the U.S. Attorney’s Office and spoke with the prosecutor about allowing the victims to enter and exit the courtroom without having to encounter the press outside. She agreed and we mapped out a plan. We would just need to get everyone to the U.S. Attorney’s Office without being seen and they could take the interior bridge over to the courtroom, avoiding the public altogether.

  The next morning, I walked close enough to the Foley Square courthouse to see the crowds gathering, and to locate where the press was camped out looking for victims and attorneys. I called Brittany and let her know that the route we’d mapped out the night before was clear. She and more than a dozen of our clients (and several other victims who were not our clients but whom we looked after that day) got to our meeting spot undetected. Once all of them were safely inside the U.S. Attorney’s Office, Brittany, Jay, Sigrid McCawley of Boies Schiller & Flexner, Stan, and I made our way toward the courthouse, periodically stopping to address questions from reporters who were lining the streets leading toward the entrance.

  We met our clients inside and walked to the courtroom door. The hallway was crawling with people. We were immediately taken into the massive courtroom, where nearly an entire side of the room was reserved for victims and their attorneys. This experience would have been overwhelming and stressful for any one of the victims alone; however, the fact that they all walked over together and had each other’s support seemed to ease their nerves.

  The judge’s law clerk expressed that Judge Berman had been concerned the courtroom was so large that there might be too much empty space. It was the opposite. There were people from wall to wall, and many in the hallway who could not get in because the courtroom was too crowded. This was the most powerful scene I had ever witnessed: dozens of victims of the same perpetrator, who had been abused in different parts of the world at different times, banded together as one strong, forceful voice.

  I began to daydream for a second as I looked over to the table where Jeffrey Epstein’s defense team sat. I can’t believe he escaped before he faced this; it just isn’t fair, I thought. While this was not the way we had hoped to finally solidify the rights of our clients to be noticed, present, and heard at important criminal hearings, it was still a historic moment that would impact the victims’ movement forever.

  Judge Berman took the bench. In his opening remarks he let everyone know that he was attuned to the importance of the rights of the victims. He addressed a New York Law Journal article that had been published the day before, written by Rebecca Roiphe, a New York Law School professor, and Bruce Green, an ethics professor at Fordham Law School. The authors expressed severe criticism of Judge Berman for inviting victims to the hearing, saying, “This is an odd moment for transparency in a criminal case” and not a ti
me for victims to have a chance to speak. Of course, that was particularly offensive to me as a firm believer that without transparency, injustice is born.

  Judge Berman voiced his opinion toward the authors. In addition to noting that the position in the article was insensitive to the victims as well as inconsistent with the law, Judge Berman also detected a possible hidden agenda. “It is my understanding that one of the authors of that article is himself counsel in one of the Epstein-related cases,” he stated. David Boies, an attorney for several victims, later elaborated on that point, explaining that Professor Green was an expert witness for Alan Dershowitz, who had been an attorney for Jeffrey Epstein.

  In defending his legally sound and historic decision to stand for the enforcement of crime victims’ rights in this country, Judge Berman cited none other than my co-counsel, longtime friend, and former federal judge Paul Cassell, reasoning, “Then District Judge Paul G. Cassell—who is now a law professor at the University of Utah and is regarded to be a noted expert in victims’ rights—concluded that under the Crime Victims’ Rights Act, victims have broad rights that extend to a court’s decision whether to grant a government motion to dismiss under Rule 48. I completely share that viewpoint in these circumstances.… I believe it is the court’s responsibility, and manifestly within its purview, to ensure that the victims in this case are treated fairly and with dignity.”

  Once the judge had set the stage, he turned to the United States, which was represented by prosecutors Comey and Moe. After the prosecutors announced their motion to dismiss, Marty Weinberg responded on behalf of the deceased defendant, Jeffrey Epstein. His argument had little to do with whether the case should be dismissed and more about his suspicion that Epstein had been murdered. Regardless of the cause of death, Marty argued that there needed to be an investigation into how the most high-profile inmate in the country could die like this.

  Judge Berman called on me to approach on behalf of the victims. I approached first to address the court. Behind me stood a line of women, no longer teenagers, now ranging in age from twenty-five to forty-three years old. After expressing my regret for Jeffrey Epstein’s death and the negative effect it had on bringing complete closure for my clients, I provided the court with some history regarding the Crime Victims’ Rights Act case in which we had been fighting for the rights of Jeffrey Epstein’s victims for more than a decade. Then I got ready to introduce the victims, who would address the court with their individual and extraordinary survival stories. There was no doubt who should go first.

  “The first client that I have who is going to address your Honor is the one who walked into my office in 2008 asking just to be heard, Courtney Wild.” I looked back from the podium and eleven years flashed through my mind as Courtney walked confidently toward the stand. Together we had sued and fought the U.S. government for violating her fundamental rights, and now she was finally able to exercise those rights.

  Courtney spoke:

  My name is Courtney Wild, and I’m a victim of Jeffrey Epstein. Jeffrey Epstein sexually abused me for years, robbing me of my innocence and mental health. Jeffrey Epstein has done nothing but manipulate our justice system, where he has never been held accountable for his actions, even to this day. Jeffrey Epstein robbed myself and all the other victims of our day in court to confront him one by one, and for that he is a coward. I want to thank the U.S. attorneys for seeking justice that has been long overdue, and most importantly, given us, the victims, our day in court to speak our peace and find some sort of closure. I feel very angry and sad that justice has never been served in this case. Thank you.

  She set the right tone. Courtney perfectly paved the way for all twenty-three victims to get their chance to speak, and after hearing her, most of the victims who were on the fence about speaking decided to do so that day. While Epstein’s abuses took place over three decades, every victim in the room found some part of the others’ description relatable. There was an instant feeling of understanding among the victims. They were in this together.

  After this meaningful event, we were escorted to the U.S. Attorney’s Office to meet with Geoffrey Berman, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York. He expressed his gratitude for the cooperation of all the victims in the criminal case, his admiration for the courage it took to speak, and his regret about the way in which the case against Jeffrey Epstein had ended. The feeling in the room was intense solidarity, like nothing I may ever see again. I looked at Courtney. She walked over and gave me a big hug. While it was not exactly how we wanted it to end when we started out, I had to believe she was proud knowing that what was happening in that room, and everything leading to that moment, could not have happened without her unwavering determination and commitment to bringing Jeffrey Epstein to justice.

  That is how it ended, but how did we get there?

  THREE WILD

  IN JUNE 2008, I WAS thirty-two years old and had just started my own law firm in Hollywood, Florida. It was Friday, June 13, when I got a call from my mom’s boss, Jay Howell. Jay was an attorney in Jacksonville, Florida, where I grew up. As one of the original founders of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, he was someone who had taught me what it meant to be a lawyer. He asked me if I had heard of Jeffrey Epstein. I had not.

  Jay explained that he had been contacted by a lawyer who represented crime victims on a pro bono basis. She had been contacted by someone with the FBI and she referred the matter to Jay because he was the leading victims’ rights attorney in Florida. Jay called me because the heart of the case was based in West Palm Beach and my office was nearby.

  Jay said that he didn’t have much information, other than that there was a twenty-year-old girl who had been sexually assaulted by a powerful man in Palm Beach around six years earlier. It was a criminal matter and this young woman needed an attorney. He’d just gotten off the phone with her and had given her my number. Her name was Courtney Wild.

  Courtney called me and said she did not want to tell her story over the phone. I told her that if she wanted someone to talk to, she could come by anytime. “Thanks,” she said before hanging up.

  I had no idea whether she would show up or not. Less than an hour later, I heard, “Hi, I’m Courtney. I’m here to see Brad.” Shawn Gilbert, my paralegal, walked her to the conference room, then came into my office to let me know Courtney was there. I was unsure what to expect. As I entered the conference room, Courtney stood up and confidently extended her hand to shake mine. Her grip was strong, and her big green eyes fixed sternly straight ahead. We sat and she cut to the chase: “I’ve been trying to get someone to help me. I finally got hold of Jay, who was great, and he told me you could help.”

  She wanted to start at the end. “I’m cooperating with the FBI against Jeffrey Epstein.”

  “Whoa.” I stopped her. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

  Courtney described her upbringing, unapologetically: “My dad wasn’t around, and my mom had a problem with drugs.” As a child, she would come home from middle school to find her parents and their friends strung out. Not feeling safe and not knowing what to do, she would often stay with friends. Yet she was determined to make it. When she was in eighth grade, she was in the school band, a cheerleader, and making excellent grades. But she had no money and as a result, not many clothes or personal belongings. Her only resource was sheer willpower, which she had in spades.

  In 2002, when she was fourteen, Courtney was approached by one of her close friends, whom we will call Lynn, who told her that she could make two hundred dollars by giving a rich man a massage. That was more money than Courtney had ever seen. It was an easy decision, so she took a cab with Lynn over to the rich guy’s house.

  Jeffrey Epstein’s house was on a cul-de-sac in the billionaire section of Palm Beach Island, not far from Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago Club. Courtney was mesmerized as she was led by a household staff member into the kitchen of this mansion. Sarah Kellen, one of Epstein’s trusted associ
ates, then escorted the two girls upstairs into a bedroom where a massage table was set up.

  A skinny young teen with braces, Courtney was sexually inexperienced. And she was nervous—very nervous. She had never seen, much less been inside, a house this big before. She had never been in the presence of someone as powerful as the man she was about to massage. For that matter, she had never given anyone a massage. She had never gotten a massage, either.

  She didn’t even know what a massage was. All she knew was that an “old” man wanted one, and somehow Lynn got her this job that made so much money. All Courtney wanted now was to impress this man.

  While she was standing beside the empty massage table next to her younger friend, an older graying man walked out of the shower wearing only a towel. He said, “I’m Jeffrey. What is your name? Nice to meet you.” His greeting was warm. He smiled before extending his hand to shake Courtney’s. She felt her anxiety disappear. He lay down face-first on the massage table.

  During the massage, he instructed Courtney. “Rub my back. Work from the middle of the back up and the tops of the legs down. You always want the blood to circulate away from the heart.” Jeffrey was teaching her the art of massage. At the same time, he was asking her questions about her family, her life, her grades, her school, her boyfriends, her interests, what she wanted to be when she grew up, what kind of car she wanted to drive. He was listening.

  Jeffrey told her he was a brain surgeon, and that he, too, had come from humble beginnings. He said that he had amassed enormous wealth, which made him friends with the most powerful people in the world. He assured her that he could help her be whatever she wanted to be. What a concept that was to a young girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Just knowing that she was in the presence of somebody who might get her somewhere in life made her want to make him happy more than anything in the world. She wanted him to like her answers to his questions. This was the first person in Courtney’s young life who had ever asked her any serious personal questions at all, much less who actually appeared to give a shit about her responses.