An American Tale: What Really Happened to Jeffrey Epstein
As a thriller writer, here's my wild, out-of-control, no-limits, crazy-ass fever dream on what happened to Jeffrey Epstein:
1. Epstein had real dirt (recordings, photos, schedules) of Trump partying with him & underage girls. Same goes for a whole bunch of other politicians. Add some high-flying lawyers (I don't know. Come up with some names of old Harvard white guys) and business/Wall St. tycoons.
2. 2000 pages of testimony is released revealing a bunch of those names. And the girls/women start talking. Righteous indignation ensues. "Why, I do declare. No suh! As a fine, upstanding family man"...blah, blah, blah.
3. But behind the scenes all these old white guys pass read-and-burn messages, or send their consiglieri: "Jeff has gotta go or we're all toast."
4. So, some serious money gets passed on down, facilitated by Bill Barr. The word is passed to corrupt prison staff: "Jeff, in cell no. 9 - like, we don't wanna see him no more. Capisce?"
5. "Hey, Jeff! Wake up. Here comes breakfast," announces a burly guard cheerily. "Jeffy-boy. Try these home-made cannoli we picked up for the guys. They're to die for."
6. "Oops!" One drops to the floor. "Oh, Jeff. Would youse mind picking that up?" Jeff bends down. Badda-bing!! A garrote is deftly slipped around his neck. Epstein struggles. His feet scramble up the cell wall as he vainly tries to pull at the ever tightening rope around his neck. His body goes limp. The guards then conveniently hang him from the top tier cell bar using his shirt.
7. Morally empty, bald jail boss is broken the news. He nods, his face expressionless. "OK. You know what to do next," he instructs calmly.
8. A fabricated story of suicide goes out via pre-formulated press release. Shocked! Shocked we are at this tragic event in our otherwise illustrious lock-up. "We're investigating." Yadda, yadda...
9. Barr echoes this disingenuous cover fable and calls Trump directly while stirring a cube of sugar into his tea. "Got some shocking news, Mr. President..." Trump nods, face expressionless. Remains silent. Hangs up.
10. Deed done. End of story. A whole lot of old, powerful white guys breathe a collective sigh of relief. Epstein's victims recede into tabloid history. Life moves on. Just another day in America.
Have I careened into Cloud Cuckooland? Are my fiction-writing days behind me, a spent novel writer? Nobody will buy such an outlandish story? Should I stick to processing FOIA requests?