Relentless Pursuit

by Bradley J. Edwards

  He threw out several ideas on how to resolve all of the civil cases. Instead of simply making a settlement offer, which was the traditional way to resolve a civil lawsuit, Epstein always had to make it more complicated. He wasn’t very specific, but he pontificated about buying a house for someone and holding a mortgage that he would forgive, or giving a gift rather than couch it as a settlement so that he could display his generosity, or placing funds in trust for someone’s children. Without much response from me, he explained why he couldn’t resolve cases on the creative terms he had just finished outlining. I think he was hoping I would disagree and jump at one of his wacky solutions so that we could then be on the same team in his strangely concocted, unorthodox global settlement plan.

  When I transitioned the conversation to more of a traditional civil settlement format with specific dollar amounts he would need to pay to adequately make up for the damage done, he ranted about how people take advantage of rich people and on principle he would not let that happen. He then drifted into this fantasy land where he was somehow the victim being made to pay unworthy plaintiffs his hard-earned money. I remember bringing him back to the choices he’d made that had put him in this predicament.

  “You escaped what would have been a life sentence for anyone else on the planet. Your money and connections saved you from jail. Your current problems and the things that make you mad at me were all caused by you—not only your initial acts but also the choices you’ve made to allow these cases to continue,” I reminded him.

  He responded by saying, “I’m only trying to be fair. I never said I was a victim, but I don’t want to become a victim. I will resolve cases in a fair way but not pay excessive money to people who I did not hurt.”

  “You say ‘fair,’ ” I answered, “like it’s an objective term and you’re the only person who knows its meaning. Your perspective on everything has been clouded by your money and all that your money has created for you. It’s saved you so far. I don’t understand why you’re going to stubbornly allow it to bring you down.” This was not the only time we had a version of that conversation. Whenever I said something that sounded like I was lecturing him, he gave me a condescending look until I stopped, after which he’d try to take the conversation to a specific point of contention in some litigation.

  Regardless, he now desperately wanted all of the cases related to him in any way to be settled and done, but rather than suck it up and settle them, he could not help negotiating backward to a point that precluded any resolution. Getting the best deal possible was always, in the end, more important to him than eliminating his risk altogether. It was like he knew what he should do, but just before he committed to doing it, he would pull back, almost recognizing that once the attention was off of him and he no longer had any risk of getting caught, then his way of life would not be as much fun.

  For the most part, I sat across from him and watched him change positions and personalities from one second to the next, presumably hoping I would come around to his way of thinking. He loved to make jokes that were particularly inappropriate for the situation while he thought out loud about possible resolutions to these serious cases. On this occasion he said something along the lines of “Brad, let’s put our heads together and figure out how we can massage the narrative to make it more fair to me,” before staring at me and pausing. Then he added, “My kind of massage, of course.” These types of childish statements were irresistible for Jeffrey. He would snicker afterward, expecting a reciprocal laugh.

  While at the Starbucks that day, Jeffrey looked at me and said, “You know, some of what Virginia is saying isn’t right.”

  “What part?” I asked.

  “Didn’t Virginia say that she and Ghislaine had a threesome with Prince Andrew over in Ghislaine’s apartment in London?”

  He was clearly trying to embellish to make her appear incredible. I looked at him quizzically and corrected him, “No. She didn’t say anything about a threesome, but now that you bring it up, she did say that she was with you and Ghislaine at the apartment in London when Prince Andrew came over and stayed the night. You instructed her to entertain him. There’s even a picture to prove most of that.”

  He said, “There’s a problem. Now I remember. She said she took a bath with Andy. If I could show you how small Ghislaine’s tub was in that apartment, it would be tough for two people to fit in there.” This seemed like a weak point to force.

  “How about the threesomes with you and Ghislaine where Virginia was made to dress up as a Catholic schoolgirl and sometimes in latex outfits,” I said. “That certainly doesn’t seem far-fetched given that Juan Alessi [Epstein’s former housekeeper] testified about Ghislaine’s sex toys and we know you particularly enjoy the schoolgirls in uniform.”

  He smirked. “Does Ghislaine look like my type to you? Don’t you know me better by now?”

  He loved to make comments like that, clearly poking fun at the fact that he was attracted to young girls, a category into which Ghislaine did not fall.

  Noticing that he wasn’t gaining any ground with me, and seemingly deciding that our fact-by-fact sparring wasn’t working out so well, he switched gears again: “Look, I know what you really want. You’re not settling cases for fair offers because you’re angry. Angry with me. I understand. You want me to give you answers and to stop making you chase everyone around because you can’t get what you’re looking for. I think you know I want to tell you the answers. My lawyers just won’t let me. If we can get everything over with, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you straight answers to every question you can ask for a whole day. In fact, the only other person that probably will want the same deal is Marie Villafaña. I’ll give you four hours of questions and I’ll give her four hours of questions. I’ll answer everything. Then we are done. For good.”

  “Marie?” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know y’all talk. I’m sure she still has a hard-on for me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he snickered and raised his eyebrows, and said, “Maybe I should choose my words more carefully. Regardless, what does it take to get everything behind us? You have this thing going on with Dershowitz. I don’t really give a shit about it, but it pulls me in. My time is very valuable. These things waste a lot of my time. If it can be over, I want it over. The CVRA I don’t care about. I’ve been assured that nobody can do anything about that deal and that the case will eventually be thrown out of court.”

  He went on, “So other than Dershowitz, all we have left is our case, right? You have nothing else that you’re bringing against me, do you?” I confirmed that, at that time, the answer was no. “Let’s resolve our personal case. Once I prove that I will be fair with you there, then you can consider resolving these other matters,” he said, not expecting a response. And not getting one. He then explained his mathematical logic for the proposition he was going to suggest as a way to resolve our personal case. Of course, he said he was trying to find a solution that might take into account our differing opinions on what the word fair meant.

  Our case against each other had still not been decided by the Fourth District Court of Appeal. He calculated his chances of winning at the Fourth at around 50 percent. He then tried to convince me that his chances at the Florida Supreme Court were at least 90 percent based on prior Supreme Court precedent. He cited a legal case off the top of his head, explaining the facts and the holding of the case as well as the application of those facts to the facts of our case. His analysis was not that crazy.

  I brought up another case that defeated the argument he was making, as it was more squarely on point and would be more persuasive to the court. Familiar with that case, without hesitation, he said, “Yeah, but that case is yellow-flagged,” which is a term used by lawyers when researching cases to indicate that there has been some disagreement or distinction by another court involving a topic within that case. Why did Jeffrey Epstein know about yellow flags? He talked confidently, like he believed he was a lawyer—and not just a
ny lawyer, but the smartest lawyer on the planet. Inside, I was laughing at the fact that he had to be the only non-lawyer in the world who has ever talked about a case being yellow-flagged.

  “Listen, Brad, that yellow flag is actually there for the same reason that your case is going to be rejected by the Florida Supreme Court,” he continued, trying to convince me. That part of his argument was wrong, and while he had already considered it and knew the case well, he was much less convincing in his explanation of its inapplicability. “Either way, I want to make this fair,” he continued. “You pick a number. I don’t care what it is. Whatever amount you’re comfortable with. You can put it in a trust account. I’ll put five times that amount in. Winner at the Fourth District takes all. I told you, I’m always fair with you. Five-to-one odds in your favor is as fair as it gets.” I didn’t say a word in response. He thought he had just resolved that case, because he said so, and to him his idea was gospel. He continued, “All right then, now it’s your turn. Figure out a fair way to get Dershowitz done and let me know.” With that, he stood up. So did I.

  I walked out of the coffee shop first. He followed. I waited in my car as he walked down the sidewalk to his black Suburban. I didn’t see him get in the car because it was around the corner, but I knew that he only had one way out and I wanted to see whether somebody had driven him there or he had come alone. I didn’t think that he saw me or knew where I was parked, or even knew what car I was driving. He passed behind my car, driving with a female passenger. For the record, I was never close enough to get a good look, but I didn’t think she was underage. I pulled out, leaving enough space between our cars so he would not see that I was following him. There was only one exit in the parking lot. Instead of taking it, he turned into a dead end area—a place where I could not possibly follow him. So I changed my plan and turned to leave.

  As soon as I committed to the exit, he pulled his car back around behind me. I looked in my rearview mirror and he waved. It was a statement as to who was chasing whom. It was also symbolic of the fact that the game board can change at any moment. When you think you are on the attack, you can instantly find yourself on defense. When you think you are winning, in a split second you can be behind. I think this was true for both of us.

  In that moment, I thought back to a quote that Jeffrey claimed as his life motto: “Know when you are winning.” It was one of those times when you’re looking at the board and it’s really anybody’s game. The way it looked to me, we both believed we were winning.

  * * *

  Not long after this meeting, on November 12, 2015, the Fourth District Court of Appeals ruled in my favor. The court reversed Judge Hafele’s ruling and brought my malicious prosecution case back to life.

  Almost immediately, Epstein called my office to congratulate me. I reminded him that his mathematical assessment of a 50 percent win was now a zero and asked him to recalculate what his chances were at the Florida Supreme Court. He explained that his prior calculation had built in the assumption that he had already lost at this appellate level, so his assessment was the same.

  I reminded him: “You know, you told me a story about your belief that people took advantage of you because you were rich. You gave me the example of somebody installing lights or light switches at your house and wanting to be paid one hundred thousand dollars for doing so. While I think you were implying that your victims were asking for more money than they deserved, you were looking in the wrong direction. It seems to me that it’s your lawyers who are taking advantage of the fact that you’re rich. Anyone telling you that you have a ninety percent chance of winning at the Florida Supreme Court is lying to you. That is, unless you know something that I don’t know.”

  I threw that last line out there to see if he would give me some hint that he had somehow bought off the Florida Supreme Court. I didn’t really think it was possible, but I figured that if it was, Jeffrey Epstein would be the one to do it.

  Reflecting back to his original proposition from our coffee shop meeting, I said, “If you believe there is a ninety percent chance that you will win, do you want me to pick a number and you put up nine times as much?”

  He quickly responded, “No, that wouldn’t be fair to you because for it to be worth it to you, the number you choose is going to be too big. It will still be meaningless to me, so I don’t care, but I don’t take advantage of people. Plus, if you would still do this given the risk to you on the chance you lose, then that tells me someone is probably putting the money up for you as insurance, which wouldn’t be fair to me.”

  Again, we hung up agreeing to disagree and waiting around to see what was going to happen next.

  THIRTY-SIX BACK IN THE SPOTLIGHT

  ON OCTOBER 15 AND 16, 2015, Jack Scarola took Alan Dershowitz’s deposition at his attorney’s office in downtown Fort Lauderdale. Jack is an excellent interrogator with a one-gear bull-in-a-china-shop style. His best attribute is the uncanny precision with which he speaks. Dershowitz was represented by probably ten lawyers, at least four of whom were in the room. His primary lawyer was Tom Scott, a former U.S. attorney who incidentally had been in charge of the U.S. Attorney’s Office when Ron Eppinger, Virginia’s early trafficker, was charged back in 1999. He had signed the indictment to prosecute Eppinger. In some indirect way, the arrest of Eppinger and his prosecution freed Virginia from her first abuser.

  No matter the precision of the question that Jack would ask, Dershowitz simply took the question mark at the end as his opportunity to say whatever he wanted to say. The deposition ended with an agreement from all counsel that made it clear that any continuation of questioning would require the presence of a special master to maintain order. Before the next deposition, the judge presiding over the case, Tom Lynch, appointed Special Master Ed Pozzuoli, managing partner from the law firm Tripp Scott, to serve in that role.

  Ed was a hard-nosed commercial litigator who had represented some of the biggest investor victims in Rothstein’s Ponzi scheme. He had a reputation for being objective, honest, and, most important, someone who could not be influenced or starstruck.

  While Jack is a strong questioner, Dershowitz was able to escape being cornered by him, not only by giving his nonresponsive answers, but also by his superior knowledge of the underlying details of the relevant facts. This included important topics such as his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, Virginia’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, and the places and times when their worlds could have collided. For that reason, our team agreed that I was best suited to take Alan’s deposition the second time around. Dershowitz might still wiggle, but my command of the record gave us the best chance to keep him in line. Anticipating Dershowitz’s objection to my conducting the deposition, I filed a notice of appearance on behalf of Paul, who was also a plaintiff in the case. Surely I could take a deposition on behalf of my own client.

  The second half of Dershowitz’s deposition was set for December, but just days before it was to occur we received a call saying that Alan had broken his arm and would need to reschedule. Nobody ever made the connection between having a broken arm and not being able to answer questions, but I would have to wait until January 13, 2016. Virginia’s deposition was set to occur the day after Dershowitz’s, with the special master presiding over both.

  I had prepared thoroughly for Dershowitz’s deposition and planned to use about 80 percent of the information that I had uncovered. I decided to save the best 20 percent for trial. We all filed into a large conference room in the law office of Tripp Scott, the firm where Ed Pozzuoli worked.

  The room had a twenty-five-foot table. Our team was on one side, and on that day included Sigrid, representing Virginia Roberts; Paul Cassell; Brittany; Jack; and me. On the other side sat Tom Scott and Rick Simpson, representing Alan; and Ken Sweder and Darren Indyke, representing Jeffrey Epstein. The head of the table was reserved for the deponent, Alan himself, and on either side of Alan were the court reporter and Ed, our special master, whose job it was to make sure A
lan answered questions responsively.

  As mentioned earlier, Alan had staked out an extreme position that was difficult to defend. Essentially, he had said Virginia was lying about everything, and because she was lying about everything, Paul and I should have known it. The problem with such an extreme stance was that there was no believable way to sustain it based on the available evidence. Right out of the gate, he couldn’t avoid his close relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, which meant he could not continue his broad proclamation that Virginia’s story was made up from “beginning to end” or “out of whole cloth.” Virginia had undeniably been trafficked by Epstein, which was the crux of her allegations. While his strategy was vehement denial of anything Virginia had ever said, I tested him on whether Virginia was a liar when she said she had met Prince Andrew. While he tried not to answer the question, he ultimately could not credibly deny it. “Was Virginia Roberts lying when she said she was paid to have sex with Prince Andrew?” I inquired.

  Rather than call her a liar on this point, he reverted to another attack on Virginia’s character. “If she was paid fifteen thousand dollars to have sex with Prince Andrew at the age of seventeen in England, she would be guilty of prostitution.” His answer was an attempt to deflect from another credibility point going up in Virginia’s column that would further refute his entire defense that Virginia had made everything up.

  I didn’t let him off the hook. “My question is, was she lying when she says she was paid to have sex with Prince Andrew?”

  Trapped with nowhere to go, he responded, “I have no idea.”

  No matter how much evidence supported any statement Virginia had ever made, Dershowitz would not concede. On the most basic gimme, I asked, “Was she lying about knowing Jeffrey Epstein?” Rather than just admit that Virginia was truthful on that point, he responded, “On the basis of the objective evidence, she probably wasn’t lying about the simple fact that she knew Jeffrey Epstein, yes.”