Jeffrey Epstein’s federal jail cell and the torn sheet of prison linen he used to kill himself
The multimillionaire sex offender was extorted by inmates and ignored by staff as he became increasingly suicidal, Metropolitan Correctional Center inmates told the Daily News in exclusive interviews.
"He was saying he's going to kill himself because the government is trying to kill him anyway," one inmate recalled.
Shocking details about Epstein's one-month stay behind bars in lower Manhattan were corroborated by the niece of Efrain "Stone" Reyes, who was the last inmate to share a cell with the multimillionaire sex offender.
"Epstein was very depressed and he mentioned to my uncle that he didn't want to live anymore and my uncle was telling him, 'Don't do any of this while I'm in the room,' " Angelique Lopez told The News. "My uncle just wanted to do his time and get out."
Staffers at the federal lockup "were treating him like crap. They were making him sleep on the floor. They wouldn't let him sleep on a cot," Lopez added.
Reyes wasn't out of jail for long. He cooperated with FBI agents investigating Epstein's suicide, was released from custody in the summer after catching coronavirus and died last month at his mother's Bronx apartment. The cause has yet to be determined, but Lopez said Reyes suffered many health problems, including diabetes and heart trouble.
The interviews reveal that it was common knowledge inside the jail that one of the most high-profile inmates in the federal jail system was suicidal. Nevertheless, Epstein found himself alone in his cell after Reyes was transferred to another facility at 8 a.m. on Aug. 9, 2019.
The next day, Epstein was found hanging in his cell — a suicide chalked up to bureaucratic bungling and staff neglect.
Two Metropolitan Correctional Center inmates and one former incarcerated person shared details about Epstein's hellish final days under the condition they not be identified due to fear of retribution by the Bureau of Prisons. All three were outraged by conditions at the 700-bed jail, which they said have deteriorated further since the headline-grabbing suicide highlighted longstanding budget and staff woes.
Epstein, 66, arrived at the jail terrified after his arrest July 6, 2019. He'd just returned from Paris, where he had a luxury apartment near the Arc de Triomphe. The multimillionaire who'd palled around with the rich and powerful had a new home: a jail known for mold, rodents and cockroaches. A judge denied Epstein's bid for bail, raising the prospect of him spending the rest of his life behind bars.
"If your information is correct it is horrifying that such conditions are generally tolerated in a federal prison within the shadows of the federal courthouse, the U.S. attorney's office and the FBI," Epstein attorney Reid Weingarten said.
"What would be even worse would be if federal law enforcement was specifically aware of the threats and extortions and did nothing to protect Epstein, but rather fought tooth and nail against any bail conditions so as to keep him in those conditions," Weingarten said.
Old, rich and awaiting trial for the worst crime in jail culture — sex trafficking of minors — Epstein was in the crosshairs of inmates eager to lighten his wallet or rough him up, inmates said. He paid around $4,000 to inmates for contraband cell phones, some of which were never provided, the sources told The News.
"A normal inmate will come in there and they automatically assume you have money because you've just been arrested. They're trying to sell you everything — phones, electronics, a better cell," the former inmate said. "When he got in there everyone was fighting over who would get him. ... He was getting ripped off left and right."
Inmates constantly shook him down for money. Some threatened him, others offered security — for a fee.
"They'd slide papers under the door [that say] 'We're going to kill you, you rapist, you pedophile,' " an inmate said.
The former inmate added that Epstein paid for protection.
"He was giving thousands of dollars. Wiring it Western Union to inmates' families, or just meeting family outside the jail to pay," the ex-inmate said.
The former inmate did not know how the handoffs were arranged outside the jail, but said it was widely discussed behind bars and a common occurrence when wealthy inmates arrived at the Metropolitan Correctional Center.
Jack Donson, a retired Bureau of Prisons employee now working as a correctional consultant, said extortion and protection rackets are common in prison culture.
"It's not this thing where Epstein is being singled out — this goes on everywhere," he said.
After four days, Epstein was moved to the Special Housing Unit, separated from the general population. His cellmate during that period was Nick Tartaglione, a former Briarcliff Manor, Westchester County, cop facing the death penalty on charges of killing four men in a botched drug deal involving a Mexican cartel.
An inmate said he heard Tartaglione tell the perv not to kill himself in his presence.
"Listen, don't do that s--t in here. I'm going to legal, do it on your own," the inmate heard Tartaglione tell Epstein. "Legal" refers to visits with lawyers in private rooms at the jail.
On July 23, Epstein attempted to hang himself using a strip of bedsheet. Tartaglione alerted correctional officers and possibly saved Epstein's life — a claim that prosecutors did not dispute.
Shortly after the episode, Tartaglione was stunned to receive word of Epstein's gratitude, inmates said. The shady multimillionaire financier wanted to do Tartaglione a big favor.
"Nick comes back: 'Holy s--t this guy Epstein told me he read my whole indictment. Told me thank you for saving his life, he's going to add me to his will now for $2 million," the inmate said.
Stunned, inmates joked that Epstein should leave them at least $5,000.
"You could put the whole building in your will!" an inmate recalled to The News.
There's no evidence Epstein made such a deal. An attorney for Epstein and his estate did not respond to an inquiry. Bruce Barket, a lawyer for Tartaglione, said it was "preposterous" to think his client was in Epstein's will.
"I don't have any idea what Epstein was telling people to make sure he felt safe," Barket said. "I can't speak to what Nick said or didn't say to some inmate. But I have no indication at all Nick's in this guy's will. Zero. I would be stunned beyond all imagination if it were true."
Regardless, the suicide attempt made clear Epstein's mental state had deteriorated. Yet correctional officers charged with keeping him alive didn't care, inmates said. Guards scoffed at Epstein's back problems and requests for medical attention, inmates said.
"He's not seeing medical, he's a pervert — I heard the CO say that," an inmate said.
Epstein returned to the Special Housing Unit, known to inmates and staff as "the box," on July 30 after a brief stint on suicide watch. Reyes, Epstein's new cellmate, had just pleaded guilty to participating with a crew of drug dealers who pushed cocaine and heroin in Bronx public housing.
"He liked to read a lot and he kept to himself. He wasn't a problem starter or too loud. My uncle said he was a good cellmate," Lopez, Reyes' niece, told The News.
But Epstein and the jail staff still weren't getting along. He wrote on a note found in his cell that a correctional officer "sent me burnt food."
"Giant bugs crawling over my hands. No fun!!" the note read.
An inmate in the unit where Epstein was held said he never put his face to the window of his door to chat with other inmates.
Epstein hanged himself less than 24 hours after Reyes was transferred to a Queens jail for cooperating witnesses. Jail administrators failed to follow directions from Metropolitan Correctional Center psychological staff that the accused sex trafficker have a cellmate.
After the suicide, crime scene tape was around Epstein's cell for weeks, an inmate said.
The suicide outraged U.S. Attorney General William Barr and highlighted longstanding problems at the understaffed, underfunded, overworked Bureau of Prisons. Epstein's accusers slammed the feds for allowing Epstein to dodge justice yet again.
The government's failure to keep him alive has resulted in the perv's alleged madam, Ghislaine Maxwell, being kept under intense surveillance in a Brooklyn federal jail to prevent her from going out like Epstein, she's claimed in court.
"Nobody is ever going to forget about [the suicide]. That's a major scar on the warden, the institution and the agency," said Donson, the correctional consultant.
Bureau of Prisons and FBI investigators aggressively questioned inmates about Epstein, asking if they'd heard anything the night of his suicide, sources said. The Bureau of Prisons did not respond to an inquiry. The Southern District of New York declined to comment.
Reyes, who'd agreed to cooperate with the feds on his narcotics case, worried about the consequences of being honest with authorities about how Epstein was treated by staff.
"He was a little worried about if he told on the security workers at [the Metropolitan Correctional Center] if they would somehow lash out on him. He was worried if they told them what they did to Epstein it would follow him and affect him negatively," Lopez said of her uncle.
After his release in April, Reyes said he was skeptical Epstein could have hanged himself from the frame of the bunk bed they shared.
"My uncle kept saying the bunk beds weren't tall enough to do something like that. It didn't make sense. The beds weren't that tall. It just didn't seem right to my uncle," Lopez said.
"But he said he didn't know. He couldn't be sure. Sometimes people are fighting something we know nothing about."
R.C.