WELL, well, well. It seems that one of the world’s most famous fugitives – Ghislaine Maxwell – has been found living at, er, her own house.
Yep. After at least a year of Where’s Wally-style intrigue as to her whereabouts, the British socialite was found living the quiet life in a cheeky twist on the classic Dunroamin retirement cottage — a Hansel and Gretelish gaff surrounded by woodland and called Tuckedaway.
The nearest town is Bradford, New Hampshire, in the US, where the 1,600 residents were seemingly oblivious to the presence of the woman described as paedophile Jeffrey Epstein’s “fixer” and who now stands accused of sex-trafficking offences herself.
And while locals were presumably using lockdown to clean out their kitchen cupboards and colour-code their wardrobe, it seems that “Ghee-lan” might have been alphabetising the copies of Epstein’s sex tapes she’s reportedly “squirrelled away” as collateral should the proverbial ordure hit the fan.
One source says: “If Ghislaine goes down, she’s going to take the whole damn lot of them with her.”
Whatever Ms Maxwell plans to do or say, one suspects that Brooklyn’s “grim” Metropolitan Detention Center, where she’s currently being held, is probably the safest place for her to be.
Because, let’s face it, the mere suggestion of her singing like a canary will be enough to cause a few sleepless nights in the McMansions of certain super-rich men who enjoyed Epstein’s hospitality over the years.
Not to mention our very own Prince Andrew who, despite being at “Pizza Express in Woking”, already looked like a worried soul when he crossed the Atlantic to, ahem, officially end his friendship with the man he claims he wasn’t close friends with.
He can make no such claim about former friend Ghislaine, who, if various embarrassing photos are anything to go by, enjoyed a very close friendship with The Queen’s second son and brought all manner of questionable types in to his orbit.
The photo of her, Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein at Princess Beatrice’s 18th birthday party is awkward enough for the monarchy.
SOARING LEVELS OF EMBARRASSMENT
But this week the embarrassment levels soared with a newly revealed image of her and disgraced actor Kevin Spacey sitting on The Queen and Prince Philip’s thrones at Buckingham Palace while doing a royal wave. Oh dear.
Whatever the outcome of the FBI’s ongoing efforts to talk to Prince Andrew about his dealings with Epstein, this tawdry scandal highlights the perils of being a prince without portfolio.
Andrew was often seen as a “royal for sale” in super-rich circles where the questionable behaviour of certain acquaintances has now dragged the monarchy in to their mud.
It must surely prove a red flag for that other prince without portfolio — Harry — who, along with wife Meghan — has just signed up for a US speaking agency that, post-pandemic, will see them rubbing shoulders with those who can afford the big bucks ticket price.
They will need eyes in the back of their heads not to find themselves posing alongside someone who might ultimately jump up and bite them.
Meanwhile, given their regular and highly public bleatings about wanting privacy, might their search for the perfect house finally be over?
I hear there’s a great little place called Tuckedaway that might soon be back on the market.
Tawdry affair for all
SINGER August Alsina claims he had an affair with Jada Pinkett Smith and that her husband Will gave them his blessing.
The couple deny it, but in the past, Will has admitted their marriage vows didn’t include the “forsaking all others” bit because: “You don’t avoid what’s natural. You’re going to be attracted to people.”
According to August, the couple have now transformed from marriage to “life partnership” which, if his claims are true, clearly means they can sleep with other people.
So why don’t they just do a Gwynnie and Chris and consciously uncouple before consciously recoupling with someone else? The mind boggles.
August says of the Smiths: “I love those people literally like my family.”
Hmmm. Something tells me the feeling might not be mutual.
A FRIEND whose wedding is scheduled for October is currently in turmoil over whether to postpone it because of the 30-guest rule.
A tough decision that will involve weeks of reorganisation and significant financial loss.
And one made all the more galling by the sight of the hundreds of cheek-by-jowl revellers crammed in to London’s Soho on Saturday night with seemingly little concern or consequence from the authorities.
If pubs can be packed full of people, then why can’t weddings?