Donald Trump personally contacted the Palm Beach Police Department to alert them about Jeffrey Epstein's sexual abuse of underage girls, according to a Department of Justice document released on Feb. 1 as part of a massive trove of over 3 million Epstein-related files.
The revelation landed in a document referencing a 2019 FBI interview with Michael Reiter, the former Palm Beach police chief who received the call. According to that interview, Trump was one of the first people to reach out to authorities when the department opened its investigation into Epstein in 2006. He didn't just offer a tip — he urged police to focus their attention on Ghislaine Maxwell, whom he called "evil."
Trump told Reiter directly:
"Thank goodness you're stopping him — everyone has known he's been doing this."
He also told the chief that he "was around Epstein" when teenagers were present and he "got the hell out of there."
For years, political opponents have attempted to use Trump's prior social acquaintance with Epstein as a guilt-by-association smear. The newly released DOJ files demolish that narrative from the inside out.
The documents, discovered by the Daily Caller, paint a picture of a man who didn't look the other way. Trump cut ties with Epstein and then picked up the phone to help bring him down.
Trump told reporters in July 2025 that he kicked Epstein out of Mar-a-Lago in the early 2000s because Epstein "stole" spa staffers. Other reports indicated the break came after Epstein made advances toward another member's teenage daughter. A report from December confirmed Trump severed the relationship after an 18-year-old beautician reported Epstein's sexual advances toward her.
Even Ghislaine Maxwell — the woman Trump himself flagged for law enforcement — told Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche in August that Trump was always a "perfect gentleman" and that she "never saw him commit any wrongdoing." The victims of Epstein's sex trafficking operation have always denied that Trump acted inappropriately.
Every thread the left tried to spin into a web leads back to the same conclusion: Trump saw something wrong and acted on it. That's not the behavior of a man with something to hide. That's the behavior of a man who wanted Epstein stopped.
The DOJ released the files to comply with the Epstein Files Transparency Act, which the House passed on November 18, 2025, by a staggering vote of 427-1. That near-unanimous margin tells you everything about how long this reckoning has been overdue. Before this release, less than 1% of Epstein records had been made public.
Less than one percent. For a case involving one of the most prolific sex traffickers in modern history, connected to some of the most powerful people on the planet, the American public had been allowed to see almost nothing.
The new trove doesn't just vindicate Trump. It raises uncomfortable questions about others.
Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, per the released files, remained in contact with Epstein as recently as 2018 and met with him in person at least two times after first encountering him in the early 2000s. Former White House strategist Steve Bannon exchanged thousands of texts and emails with Epstein in 2018 and 2019, covering topics ranging from foreign policy to European coalitions to pop culture. A photograph in the files showed former Prince Andrew leaning over a woman on all fours.
The scope of Epstein's network was vast. The question that matters now is what the full documentary record reveals about who enabled him — and who tried to stop him.
For nearly a decade, media outlets and Democratic operatives treated every photograph of Trump near Epstein as an indictment. They built an innuendo machine designed to make proximity look like complicity. Cable news panels wondered aloud what Trump "knew." Social media is filled with dark implications.
What Trump knew, it turns out, is exactly what he told police: Epstein was a predator, and someone needed to stop him.
This is the pattern with so many anti-Trump narratives. The accusation arrives with maximum volume. The exoneration arrives quietly, buried in a document dump. The retraction never comes at all.
Reiter's FBI interview took place in October 2019 — two months after prison guards found Epstein dead in his cell. The information about Trump's call to police has existed in federal files for over six years. It took an act of Congress and 3 million pages of forced transparency to get it into daylight.
That delay wasn't accidental. The same institutions that sat on this exculpatory information had no trouble leaking selectively when it served their purposes. Transparency, for official Washington, has always been a weapon aimed in one direction.
The Epstein case has always been about more than one man. It's about a system — financial, legal, political — that protected a serial predator for decades. The girls he victimized were failed by every institution that should have shielded them. Law enforcement was slow. Prosecutors cut sweetheart deals. The powerful closed ranks.
Trump didn't close ranks. He called the cops.
Now the 3 million documents are out, and the real work begins: identifying who else in that network acted with the same urgency Trump did — and who didn't. The American public deserves a full accounting, not just of Epstein's crimes, but of every person and institution that looked the other way while children were exploited.
One man saw what was happening, walked away, and called the authorities. The documents confirm it. The rest of the story is still being written — and 3 million pages suggest it's far from over.
