I’m returning to the SDNY courthouse this morning to watch the sentencing of Ghislaine Maxwell. I am 40 weeks pregnant, and those close to me think I’m insane to go. But I keep saying: to miss the sentencing after you have watched the trial is to miss the final act of a play. You have to see how it ends. Little did I know that in a few hours I would be in the hospital, unexpectedly getting induced.
I am four and a half hours early, and yet the line outside is not as empty as I was hoping it would be. A young woman I recognize from the trial tells me she has been waiting since 2:30am, and was the 8th person to arrive. Another woman says she was one of many who hired a line sitter to end up at the front. This was typical during the trial. Covid restrictions limited the number of people allowed into the actual courtroom, where the trial was taking place. No more than 3-4 people were allowed from both the press and the public. And once inside, a bench that can hold at least 10 people, was now limited to only 3, to maintain social distancing. Those that made it inside the courtroom would usually arrive by 4am, if not earlier. They waited in the cold for hours before being let in. The rest of us came minutes before the trial started and watched it from a live feed in an overflow room.
Security is starting to seat people inside the courtroom. Far more press is being let in than the public. The person standing in front of me is told to go upstairs to the 3rd floor, where the sentencing is taking place. I get told to head upstairs to the overflow room. The courtroom is officially full.
“I actually prefer the overflow room,” says a journalist standing behind me, who I’ve come to know from the trial.
“You can actually see what’s going on, instead of in the courtroom where their back is turned to you”.
He’s right. I made it into the courtroom twice. Once during a charging conference on a Saturday, without the jury present. And the second time months later, when a hearing was held to determine whether a mistrial should be declared, after a juror lied on a questionnaire. Maxwell was present for both.
The charging conference was when I first saw Maxwell in person. She walked in wearing the same clothes her lawyers had dressed her in for the trial. A sweater and black pants. Her hair straightened and freshly dyed. She looked relatable yet put together. It was an intentional look her lawyers were smart and successful in crafting. A contrast to the woman we’ve come to know in the media, who always wore designer clothes and had more money than most of us could ever dream of.
She walked in that Saturday with a sense of excitement. Greeting her lawyers and her family, before scanning the room to see who was in audience that day. Her stare felt intimidating and made me want to look away.
The second time I saw her, it was the complete opposite. She walked into the courtroom in her prison uniform. Handcuffed until she reached the defendant’s desk. Her straight posture, her intense stare, even her dyed black hair had all faded. She looked embarrassed to be seen that way, and you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable watching it.
Upstairs in the overflow room, the monitor turns on to show us Maxwell and only two of her four lawyers present, Bobbi Sternheim and Christian Everdell. Maxwell is in her prison uniform, a blue scrub-like t-shirt and a white long sleeved shirt underneath it. Unlike at the previous hearing in March, her hair is now dyed and straightened. She pours herself a glass of water as her twin sisters Isabel and Christine and her brother Kevin sit in the row behind her.
The sentencing starts with Everdell arguing about the guidelines and his objections in front of Judge Nathan. Its legal lawyer talk I’m not familiar with. I ask Roberta, a journalist who specializes in true crime if she’s aware of what’s going on.
“Yes, and this is great lawyering!” she says. For the reported seven million dollars that Maxwell spent on her legal team, I would hope so. She explains that Everdell’s argument is an attempt to lessen Maxwell’s sentencing.
The government is up next. Alison Moe, who delivered the closing arguments during the trial is now delivering the sentencing speech. She calls Maxwell “a person indifferent to the suffering of other human beings”, and ends it by stating “we ask the court that it sends the message: it is never too late for justice”.
Judge Nathan calls for a 30-minute break. People start placing bets on how many years they believe Maxwell will get. Fifteen, twenty and thirty are the most common answers.
30 minutes later, it’s time for the victim impact statements. Annie Farmer, who was one of the four victims that testified at the trial is the first to speak. She appears nervous, judging by the fast pace in which she’s reading her speech. Her voice cracks as she mentions her sister’s illness, which developed as a result of Maxwell’s and Epstein’s crimes. It’s a stark contrast to the woman we saw testify months ago, who was calm and collected during a challenging cross examination by Maxwell’s lawyer, Laura Menninger.
But the victim’s speech that stands out the most is the one delivered by Sarah Ransome. She describes not only the sexual abuse she endured, but being put on the Atkins diet by Epstein and Maxwell. Getting sent to the psychiatrist for antidepressants. Constantly being told by Maxwell that her application to her dream school was not good enough. Reminiscent of the same abuse victims described in the NXIVM and Larry Ray trial.
As the victim statements come to a close, it is time for Maxwell’s defense to speak. Bobbi Sternheim walks up to the podium. She takes the microphone off of the stand, and turns around to face the audience. She addresses the victims by saying she hopes this will give them the solace and the ability to move forward.
Sternheim turns back to face Judge Nathan. She continues her speech. She describes Maxwell’s troubled childhood, her abusive father. The fact that Maxwell is over 60 years old, and has no history of criminal violence. She says Maxwell is teaching classes at her detention center, one’s that are no longer even offered such as yoga, and tutoring inmates for their GED.
Finally, it is time for Maxwell to speak. The entire overflow room leans in closer to the TV monitor.
Maxwell speaks slowly but confidently. She’s carefully saying each word, in a tone that almost has me fooled into believing she’s being sincere. Her speech serves as a reminder that while she’s guilty, she’s also the scapegoat in a network where everyone else involved has gone unscathed. “It is the greatest regret of my life that I ever met Jeffrey Epstein” she says. “I hope my conviction along with my harsh incarceration brings you closure.”
“I’m sure her lawyer helped her write that speech!” says Roberta. “No acknowledgement of her crimes whatsoever!”
Judge Nathan begins her sentencing. She makes it clear that Maxwell isn’t being used as a proxy for Epstein. She states Maxwell normalized abuse, and expressed a lack of acceptance and responsibility. She is sentenced to 240 months (twenty years), 5 years supervised release, and is ordered to pay a $750,000 fine. Sternheim asks for Maxwell to be sent to Danbury prison, the same facility in which Clare Bronfman from the NXVIM trial is also serving her sentence.
“This twenty-year sentence is not a win for the government, when the maximum that she could have gotten was 55 years,” says Roberta.
She is correct. Those of us that watched the trial saw a group of young prosecutors trying to convict Maxwell, but they were often overpowered by her team of lawyers. A team with far more experience and confidence. The guilty verdict on 5 out of 6 charges surprised many of us, considering prosecution did not always seem ready when presenting their argument (2 out of the 5 charges Maxwell was convicted on were dropped before the sentencing, due to being repetitive).
Regardless, as Bradley Edwards, attorney for several of the victims stated, ”we plan to finally see someone who is at the head of this sex trafficking operation be sentenced for what she did and hopefully it's not the end of the investigation”.
Following the sentencing, Maxwell’s legal team has appealed the conviction.