A retired FBI signature guru has just dropped a bombshell that could rewrite the narrative around a controversial letter tied to President Donald Trump and the late Jeffrey Epstein.
Just The News reported that Wayne Barnes, a 29-year veteran of the FBI and a premier expert in signature analysis, has cast serious doubt on whether Trump personally signed or wrote a birthday letter to Epstein, found in a 50th birthday book from the early 2000s, after conducting a detailed examination for Just the News.
Democrats have been quick to pounce on this letter, wielding it as a political club against Trump, even though the former president has repeatedly and adamantly denied any involvement in its creation.
Let’s be real—using a questionable document to smear someone without ironclad proof is the kind of partisan game that fuels distrust in our institutions. It’s worth digging deeper before jumping to conclusions.
Barnes, who honed his skills unmasking Soviet spies during the Cold War and now works as a private investigator in Florida, analyzed a photocopy of the letter released by the House Oversight Committee.
His expertise isn’t just academic—he’s testified in court cases and even verified Hunter Biden’s signature on a laptop receipt later confirmed by the FBI. This isn’t some armchair sleuth; this is the real deal.
The letter in question, part of Epstein’s birthday tribute, includes a suggestive message alongside a sketch of a woman’s body, with a signature reading simply “Donald”—a style consistent with Trump’s informal, first-name signatures in personal correspondence.
But before anyone cries “gotcha,” Barnes points out that matching style doesn’t mean Trump put pen to paper on this particular page. Something smells off here, and it’s not just the content.
A glaring clue lies in the paper itself—Trump is known for using off-white or yellowish-beige paper for his outgoing letters, never stark white, yet the Epstein letter appears on white stock.
Barnes suggests that if someone cut and pasted a “Donald” signature onto white paper, the color mismatch would be obvious unless it was photocopied to disguise the difference. This isn’t conspiracy theorizing; it’s a logical red flag.
“By far, the pages where Mr. Trump signs with his first name only are outgoing letters where there is some coloration to the paper used,” Barnes noted. He’s not mincing words—Trump’s personal standard is colored paper, and deviating from that for a supposed personal letter strains credulity. If this was meant to look authentic, someone missed a pretty basic detail.
Barnes further explained, “That means that if someone cut out an appliqué of the 'Donald' signature and tried to affix it to a piece of white paper, the difference in color around the 'Donald' would stand out.”
He theorizes the colored paper had to be photocopied onto white to mask any trimming around the signature. This isn’t just a minor quibble—it’s a potential smoking gun of manipulation.
Adding to the skepticism, Barnes emphasized that Trump’s typical personal notes are short and sweet—think a quick “congrats” or “thanks,” not an elaborate dialogue page with drawings and text.
If Trump had sent a birthday wish to Epstein, Barnes argues it would’ve been a formal, single-paragraph letter with a brief personal touch. This over-the-top page just doesn’t fit the man’s known style.
Then there’s the timeline—Trump has long asserted he broke ties with Epstein back in the 1990s, making a personal birthday greeting in the early 2000s, let alone something as intricate as this letter, highly improbable.
Barnes finds this claim aligns with the unlikelihood of Trump crafting such a document. Why would someone who cut contact suddenly send a custom birthday doodle?
“If Mr. Trump really wanted to send a birthday greeting to Epstein, it would have been a single paragraph in a formal letter, maybe with a personal word or two written out,” Barnes stated.
This isn’t speculation; it’s based on patterns of Trump’s correspondence history. The idea of him laboring over a quirky dialogue page feels as plausible as a unicorn sighting.
Barnes doesn’t call this a forgery in the classic sense but rather a fraudulent act—someone likely applied Trump’s name to a document he didn’t authorize or sign willingly. This distinction matters; it’s not about faking handwriting but about deceptively misusing a real signature. That’s a serious accusation with implications beyond mere politics.
“The present case is an issue of someone applying another’s name to a place the named individual did not, or would not sign, of his own volition,” Barnes clarified.
This isn’t a simple “did he or didn’t he” debate—it’s a deeper question of intent and deception. Whoever crafted this page may have thought they were clever, but they didn’t account for expert scrutiny.
While Barnes cautions that he’d prefer to examine the original letter in Epstein’s birthday book for definitive proof, the public evidence already raises substantial doubt about Trump’s involvement. It’s a reminder that in today’s hyper-partisan climate, every scrap of paper gets weaponized before the ink’s even dry—or in this case, before we’re sure whose ink it is.