Inside the Secret Sale of Ghislaine Maxwell’s Swanky New Hampshire Hideout
BRADFORD, N.H.—The hideaway where Jeffrey Epstein’s alleged madam, Ghislaine Maxwell, took refuge while authorities were building a case against her was a massive, roughly $1 million estate in this sleepy New England town, The Daily Beast has confirmed.
Maxwell was arrested without incident in Bradford around 8:30 Thursday morning and charged with six counts, including enticing and transporting a minor for the purposes of illegal sexual acts. She was being transported to the Southern District of New York for further hearings.
On Thursday, Bill Sweeney, the assistant director in charge of the FBI’s New York Field Office, said authorities had kept a close watch on Maxwell since Epstein was arrested on sex trafficking charges last year. He said Maxwell had recently “slithered away to a gorgeous property in New Hampshire,” where she continued to “live a life of privilege while her victims live with the trauma inflicted on them years ago.”
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The “gorgeous property” in question is a four-bedroom, four-bath abode situated at the top of a long, winding driveway on East Washington Road outside of town. A listing for the house, which Maxwell allegedly purchased in all cash in December 2019, described the home as an “amazing retreat for the nature lover who also wants total privacy.”
Features include a floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace, cathedral ceiling, a “spectacular chandelier,” and a “large master bath with soaking tub.” A barn located out back was advertised as “fabulous ... for square dances and hoedowns.”
The broker who sold the property told The Daily Beast she had never met Maxwell, a British heiress long linked to Epstein. But a British man who she assumed was the husband attended the house inspection, the broker said, and told her that he had just sold his tech company and was looking for a place in the U.S. The buyers initially asked not to put their name on the purchasing paperwork, but when the seller balked, they formed a limited liability company to put on the documents instead.
“They said they didn’t want her name known, so I thought it must be a movie star,” the broker said. “She wanted to know what the flight patterns were over the house, which was very strange.”
Public records show that a “Granite Realty LLC” purchased the property from Massachusetts-based attorney Richard Yospin on Dec. 13 of last year. Yospin was not forthcoming with information about this transaction when contacted by The Daily Beast—but claimed he had no knowledge of Maxwell’s involvement in the deal. Instead, he asserted his only communications during the deal were with a Boston-based attorney whose name he could not recall.
Paperwork on the property filed with the Town of Bradford shows Granite Realty LLC, which does not appear to be incorporated in either New Hampshire or Massachusetts, is lodged at 155 Seaport Boulevard, Boston, MA. That is the address of several companies, including the law firm Nutter, McLennen & Fish—the same law firm that registered Maxwell’s defunct company Ellmax LLC in Florida. New Hampshire Department of State Records show that an attorney with Nutter formed a similarly-named entity, Granite Reality, based out of that same address just weeks before the property’s purchase.
Nutter did not return a call for comment, nor did the attorney Adam Ghander, who appears to have handled Maxwell’s affairs while at that law office and who has since moved on to the firm DLA Piper.
The Federal Bureau of Investigation declined to confirm or deny this was the location where Maxwell had been staying.
But Bradford was the perfect place for Maxwell to hide out—a remote town of 1,600 people at the foot of Mount Sunapee, surrounded by lakes and woodlands, with little more than a Dunkin Donuts to mark its existence. As Nate Herrick, a resident of the downtown area, told The Daily Beast, “It’s the middle of nowhere.”
At the Henniker Farm and Country Store, where locals buy gardening tools, maple syrup, and duck eggs, the saga of Epstein and Maxwell—and the arrest in their midst—barely registered.
“I don’t even know who she is,” said employee Kristen Wenzel, who added that she did not know who Epstein was, either. “We keep our noses out of other people’s business,” she added.
“Around here, we don’t care about bullshit,” added a coworker, who would not give her name, “because it’s none of your business.”
Still, some residents knew something was afoot when unmarked FBI and police cars gathered in the Market Basket parking lot early on Thursday and planes began circling overhead.
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Dick Morris, a self-employed carpenter and 21-year resident of East Washington Road, was floored by the amount of activity in the area.
“Big arrest this morning. Did you hear what happened?” he asked a neighbor Thursday afternoon, when she drove by to inquire about what locally qualified as traffic: about six cars, some apparently affiliated with the press, along with the aircraft earlier that day.
“I just heard them buzzing around this morning,” replied the neighbor, who told The Daily Beast she was a farmer but did not want to have her name linked to Epstein. “I was running late doing my barn chores, and I was like, ‘Oh, you don’t usually hear that crap that early in the morning.’”
Branded as “Tucked Away,” the property at which the arrest took place is hidden deep in the trees, behind “Private Property” signs and a black metal gate, making it impenetrable to unwanted cars—if not the swarms of black flies who feed on unwelcome guests.
“East Washington Road is spooky,” said Herrick. “It’s the kind of place where people could hide out in a bunker. It’s just real Hollywood backwoods stuff down there.”
After a five-minute walk up the steep hill, a gray-haired man with a posh British accent informed a reporter that his was private property and he had just called the police.
He would not answer questions about the ownership of the property, any relationship he might have with Maxwell, Epstein, or the arrest Thursday morning. But when asked which part of England he was from, he replied, “I’m not.”
“I’m from America,” he added in the reserved tone of an aristocrat, flashing a quick smile and picking up his phone, apparently to dial the number of the police once more.
Sure enough, the phone’s screensaver boasted an American flag, blowing in the wind.
— With reporting by Erin Banco
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