You have to have leverage over those murderous Clintons, otherwise say hello to a bedsheet noose.
Jeffrey Epstein’s so-called “madam” Ghislaine Maxwell was arrested this morning on sex-trafficking-related charges.
It’s been nearly a year since her boss was found hanged in his cell, so I hope Ghislaine used the intervening months to put together one hell of an insurance policy to protect her from sharing his fate.
And by “insurance policy,” I don’t mean with Met Life.
By “insurance policy,” I mean damaging documents and photos secretly stored in an undisclosed safe deposit box with duplicate copies kept with her attorney — locked in a safe that can only be opened with a saliva sample, thumbprint and retinal scan. And should anything happen to Ghislaine while in custody or on trial, those damaging documents will get released.
It’s really the only safe way of dealing with the Clintons. They need to know that you ending up on a slab will hurt them far more than you staying alive.
You have to have leverage over those murderous Clintons, otherwise say hello to a bedsheet noose.
To be honest with you, I’m stunned that Maxwell managed to get through the last eleven months without becoming a victim of a “robbery gone wrong” or that Clinton special — “suicide by a bullet to the back of her head.”
Then again, I’m thinking Ghislaine knows exactly the kind of people she’s dealing with, and has planned accordingly.
If Ghislaine Maxwell was in fact the procurer of underage girls for Epstein and his wealthy pals, I want her to rot in prison for her crimes. And the only way to ensure this sordid tale ends with a lengthy prison sentence is to make sure Ghislaine stays on this side of the grass.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall of the Clinton compound in Chappaqua today. If I had to guess, I’d say dishes and knickknacks are, at this moment, getting hurled in impotent anger.