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editor of Vanity Fair, was also at the dinner. Epstein's
rise and Carter's rise are not, with a little critical
interpretation, that different. Both are a function of the
age of new money, both are helped by strategic
relationships with the exceptionally wealthy, both have
made themselves up. To say that Epstein, in the
company of the Princess, stuck in Carter's craw would
be an understatement. Epstein became one of the "what
do you know about him" figures in Carter's gossip
trail-a story waiting to happen. Carter once advised me
not to go to Epstein's house or accept a ride in his car
least I risk being blackmailed. ("For what?" I asked
Carter. "You can't even begin to imagine," said Carter.)
He joined the board of Rockefeller University. He
was suddenly on the Trilateral commission, that cabal of
business people who fancy themselves, and who are
fancied by conspiracy buffs, as running the world. He
bought, from his client Limited Founder Les Wexner,
the largest private house in Manhattan. (Rumors will
continue for many years, that Wexner owns the house
and Epstein is just squatting in it-an 18-year squat.) He
bought an airplane. Then another. He expanded his
holdings in New Mexico. He began a Xanadu-like
refurbishment of his Caribbean Island.
He befriended Bill Clinton in his new after-office
life-and that would prove to be quite the fatal pairing.
The post-Monica Clinton, now having pardoned the
on-the-lam financier Marc Rich-at this point, before
his own rehabilitation, Clinton really is the world's
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