was founded in 1980 in response to one woman's loss of her daughter to a drunken driver. Since MADD was founded, traffic deaths have dropped by 44 percent. Yet driving under the influence is still very prevalent across the country. According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, an estimated 17,602 people died in alcohol-related traffic crashes in 2006 -- an average of one every 30 minutes. About one-third of all drivers arrested or convicted of DUI are repeat offenders. In Florida, 29 percent of all traffic fatalities in 2006 involved a blood-alcohol concentration of 0.08 or higher.
A recent 17-day review of DUI arrests in Orange County found that 120 individuals were arrested. Forty-one percent were released on pretrial release with no monetary conditions, compared to 39 percent released on a bail bond and 12 percent via a cash bond. Of the individuals arrested, 63 percent had prior arrests for traffic offenses, many with multiple arrests. Of those, 20 percent had a prior DUI arrest. Yet 49 people charged with DUI simply had to promise to return to court to be released. Pretrial-release programs are housed in correctional facilities and are funded by our tax dollars. Many defendants charged with driving or drug-related offenses, battery, theft and other serious crimes are being released without secured bail through such programs. When a defendant fails to appear for court or violates any condition of non-monetary release, more tax dollars are spent to re-apprehend that defendant. The failure-to-appear rate is higher for defendants released on their own recognizance, unsecured bail or cash bail.
Private bail, however, has been proved to be the most effective method of pretrial release and serves as an appearance bond. Bail agents track and monitor defendants to make sure they show up for court and receive their sentences. If a defendant flees, the agent returns them to jail or pays the court -- all at no taxpayer expense. Bail agents are licensed, competent professionals who charge a minimum fee as required by statute. They often work hand-in-hand with the defendant's family/friends to ensure the defendant shows up in court. Defendants arrested for DUI in Orange/Osceola counties are required to have a mandatory court appearance per an administrative order issued by Chief Judge Belvin Perry Jr. We should hold those making such release decisions accountable. DUI offenders obviously have the money to pay for gas and alcohol at the minimum, yet our tax dollars are being spent to process their release from jail with no monetary conditions. Releasing defendants charged with serious crimes such as DUI on non-monetary conditions sends the message of lax accountability to all within the criminal-justice system, including the criminals. Public safety and the wise use of taxpayer dollars should be a shared goal.
Melanie Ledgerwood is in charge of government relations for Accredited Surety and Casualty Company Inc.; Yolanda Larson is the executive director of the Central Florida MADD Affiliate
Published: Apr 25, 2008 12:30 AM
Modified: Apr 25, 2008 04:52 AM
Judges rein in outsize bail
Wake magistrates must justify bail set higher than recommended, after a study finds a racial disparity
Sarah Ovaska, Staff Writer
RALEIGH - Wake County's two presiding judges want magistrates to justify misdemeanor bail above recommended amounts after research found the figure is often set high, especially for blacks.
As a result, people charged with offenses that don't always carry a jail sentences sit behind bars when they can't make bail, the county's public defender said.
The study by Johanna Foster, a former UNC-Chapel Hill graduate student who now works with the county as a grant administrator, found that misdemeanor suspects had average bail of $1,303 -- above the $100 to $1,000 range recommended in Wake County's Pretrial Release and Bail Bond Policy.
"I was surprised," said Donald Stephens, Wake's senior resident Superior Court judge.
Foster's study also indicated that race was one of the most significant factors in setting bail amounts, with whites getting bail averaging $963 while blacks received bail averaging $1,199.
Stephens and Chief District Court Judge Robert Rader said the findings weren't strong enough to indicate a larger problem of racial bias. Both judges emphasized that Foster's study looked at only 383 cases. Other unknown factors may explain those discrepancies, they said.
"Race is absolutely not supposed to be an issue or a factor that affects a bond," Rader said.
The idea that race plays a part in bail decisions is wrong, said Gary Wills, the county's chief magistrate. He said the study took a narrow view of the system and lacked an understanding of the circumstances magistrates face when setting bail.
"You've got to look at the whole picture, and that's not being done," he said.
Rader and Stephens ordered that Wake's magistrates write down their reasoning when they depart from the recommended amounts. Not documenting the disparity could lend credence to defense attorneys' arguments that bail is excessive, according to the order.
Wake's public defender, Bryan Collins, is concerned about the jailing of suspects for Class 2 misdemeanors, crimes such as resisting arrest, passing bad checks, defrauding an innkeeper and carrying concealed weapons. Convictions of that class of misdemeanors result in time behind bars only when a person has five or more other convictions. Even under that scenario, the maximum punishment is 60 days.
"They're forced to sit in jail for something that they are presumed to be innocent of," Collins said.
Some of his court-assigned clients, who can't afford defense attorneys, may spend weeks in jail after misdemeanor arrests when they fail to raise money to pay their bail. That's because heavy court dockets often make it difficult to have a defendant go before a judge in a timely manner to discuss bail reduction, Collins said.
That forces defendants to consider pleading guilty instead of fighting the charges at trial.
"They often make a pragmatic decision to plead guilty and get out of jail because of a bond they can't make," Collins said.
Study met skeptics
For her study for a master's degree in public administration, Foster examined a sample of 383 people arrested in 2005 and charged with Class 2 misdemeanor arrests in 2005. She factored in only people arrested once in the calendar year and also tried to determine whether their employment, residence and prior convictions had an effect on the bail amount. A preliminary copy was provided to judicial officials last spring, and it was received with much skepticism.
Foster updated her research and found the same results.
"In the end, race was still statistically significant," she said.
In half the cases looked at by Foster, the defendants had no criminal record and weren't subject to imprisonment if convicted.
Durham County has a different type of dispute over bail amounts: longstanding concerns about how quickly suspects leave jail while awaiting trial for violent crimes. Some suspects have been charged in homicides after they've been let out of jail pending their trials on other charges.
Durham gets tough
On March 1, Durham court officials made it more costly to get out from behind bars while awaiting trial on some offenses.
Judges, prosecutors and defense lawyers in Durham County set new recommended bail amounts for violent and nonviolent crimes. For some felonies, particularly those involving a gun, the cost of getting out of jail has been greatly increased.
In Wake County, the order by Rader and Stephens endorsed just one finding in the study, that bail for people of all races was above the recommended amounts. The April 10 order is on display in the Wake County Magistrate's Office, on the lower level of the jail where 19 judicial officers process defendants night and day, Wills said.
Rader, Stephens and Wills said they'd be open to looking at results of a larger study, but all said it was not their top priority.
"Setting bonds is one of the hardest things that we have to do," Rader said. "We don't have a crystal ball; we don't know what a person is going to do or not do."
(Staff writer Anne Blythe contributed to this report.)
Staff writer Anne Blythe contributed to this report.
Bail Bondsman Holds Down Purse Snatching Suspect, Cuffs Him
POSTED: 6:53 am EDT April 18, 2008
Good Samaritans helped stop the purse snatching attempt Thursday night in Waterford Lakes Town Center. The victim was getting a snack after working out at the LA Fitness when a man jumped her and tried to make off with her purse, but the suspect was captured thanks to some quick-thinking shoppers.
Bail bondsman Paul Anglero was going about his business Thursday evening, just picking up a present for his daughter at a hair salon in the Waterford Lakes Town Center when he saw Michael Cramer.
"At the time, I was coming across the parking lot. I saw the gentleman stare at me like he was up to no good," Anglero said.
The intuition of a bail bondsman seems to be pretty good when it comes to criminals. Just moments later, deputies said, Cramer jumped Linda Anderson as she was headed to Planet Smoothie and tried to make off with her purse. Anderson began to scream. "He just kept trying to get my purse, so he was kinda dragging me. And his accomplice drove up," she said.
Anglero said the door to the accomplice's car was open. He thought they were trying to throw Anderson inside.
"From my perspective, it looked like they were trying to kidnap her," he said.
When Anglero approached, two other men were already working to hold Cramer down, but he said it was the third set of hands, and a pair of handcuffs, that was able to subdue Cramer until deputies arrived and hauled him off.
Cramer made his first appearance before a judge Friday morning and there is probably one bondsman he should avoid calling.
"I don't think I would get him out myself," Anglero said.
Linda Anderson was not seriously injured in the attempted purse snatching. She'll be nursing a twisted knee for a few days, but she is expected to be okay. (Click Here To See Video)
Copyright 2008 by wftv.com. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed
Bondsman Describes Capture Of Suspect In Fatal Shooting
By LISA A. DAVIS
The Tampa Tribune
Published: April 16, 2008
NEW PORT RICHEY - When bail bondsman James McFadden Sr. heard the name Jason Brian Waterhouse associated with a fatal shooting in Griffin Park over the weekend, he started poking around the neighborhood looking for clues.
The owner of A-Plus Bonds in New Port Richey previously had bailed the 17-year-old out of jail on charges of simple battery, burglary, aggravated battery and driving without a valid license. With word out that Pasco County sheriff's detectives were looking for Waterhouse in connection with Joshua Gene Coggins' death, McFadden said, he knew he had to bring in the suspect.
Acting on a tip, McFadden went to a Comfort Inn on Dale Mabry Highway in Tampa about 5:30 p.m. Monday, told the manager why he was there and was given a room key.
"We snuck up in the hotel, and we could hear noises in there," McFadden said.
That's when he and a colleague - guns in hand - entered the room and ordered the half-dozen people inside to hit the floor.
"Mr. Waterhouse had his head under the bed so he couldn't be recognized," McFadden said. "We took the little fellow back to Land O' Lakes."
At the jail, Detective Chris Beaman arrested Waterhouse, of 11550 Altoona Ave., on a manslaughter charge in the 22-year-old Coggins' death. Waterhouse was expected to be moved to the Juvenile Detention Center and held without bail.
In one account of the slaying, Coggins was trying to help Waterhouse's girlfriend as the couple argued in the street.
But Samantha Acosta, 18, said Coggins threatened to stab her.
The stories end the same way: Coggins was shot twice early Sunday morning and died later that day after being flown to Bayfront Medical Center in St. Petersburg for emergency surgery.
Witnesses reportedly told detectives a friend drove Acosta to Waterhouse's home so she "could mend her relationship" with him. The couple got in an argument and Coggins happened by and intervened. At some point, witnesses told deputies, Waterhouse pulled out a gun, pointed it at Coggins and tried to fire three times, but it misfired.
Waterhouse took off running west on Rye Street and Coggins followed, a report stated, and witnesses heard three gunshots just before 3:30 a.m.
A few minutes later, they reportedly saw a green Mustang pick up Waterhouse and take off. He threw out the gun somewhere on Little Road, the report stated.
Paramedics and deputies found Coggins lying in the yard at 9106 Rye St. A knife was recovered near his body, sheriff's office spokesman Kevin Doll said.
As McFadden drove Waterhouse, who turns 18 next week, from Tampa to central Pasco, they spoke briefly about the incident.
"He had, like, a blank look on his face," McFadden said.
The bail bondsman said he knows Waterhouse's father, but business is business.
Added McFadden: "I felt bad about the whole thing."
Reporter Lisa A. Davis can be reached at (727) 815-1083 or ldavis@tampatrib.com
Lawyer's bond work draws critics
Web Posted: 02/11/2008 01:08 AM CST
Karisa King Express-NewsLast of two parts
When it comes to posting bail bonds, few commercial bondsmen or lawyers rival Kelly Green.
Since she entered the trade in 2001, she has posted $26.5 million in bonds, rocketing to the top of the list of attorneys who work in the controversial and high-risk business.
Her popularity among jail inmates fuels a bustling legal practice that racked up 430 cases last year. It also has led Green into murky ethical territory, clashes with fellow attorneys and bonds that frequently went bad.
Most states forbid lawyers from writing bail bonds, but Texas allows the practice as long as the lawyer also represents the client. The American Bar Association says lawyers should not post bonds for their clients except in rare circumstances because of the potential for a conflict of interest.
A review of court records by the San Antonio Express-News shows more than 250 lawyers in Bexar County wrote bail bonds last year for their clients. Yet most attorneys shun the wholesale practice. Of the attorneys who posted bonds last year, about half signed off on bonds totaling less than $34,000, compared to Green's total of about $5.1 million. Five professional bondsmen did more business than Green. Their totals ranged from $5.3 to $23.5 million.
Court records show that it's not uncommon for Green's clients to end up back in jail after she requests arrest warrants for them for various bond violations. In the parlance of the bail bonds industry, it's called "offing a bond" — common practice for a bondsman who suspects someone won't show up for court.
But Green's approach has a twist: She usually continues to represent clients after dropping their bonds, even when their client-attorney relationship has soured.
Most often, Green ended bond agreements because defendants failed to report to her office and she couldn't reach them, or they were arrested on new charges, valid reasons all for going off a bond. But to sever a bond agreement a bondsman must file a statement explaining why they believe the defendant poses a risk.
Almost any conversation between an attorney and client should be confidential, said David Sheppard, a criminal defense attorney who teaches at the University of Texas Law School.
"How do you maintain a trusting relationship with the client when you've revealed perhaps confidential information about the client's financial matters and payment history and you've been the agent who threw them in jail?" Sheppard asks. "I don't know how you maintain a proper relationship at that point. Maybe some attorneys say they can, but I'm skeptical."
After bond agreements break down, there's a high likelihood that defendants feel trapped, he said.
"All the money they spent for a lawyer is gone," Sheppard said. "I would think that a lot of clients would say, 'Yeah, I don't have a choice.'"
One such client was Eleazar Lopez, who didn't show up for court on a drug possession charge in July 2006. He said he later left messages for Green explaining he was laid up with a bad back. Soon after, he was arrested for forgery.
Lopez opted not to ask for a court-appointed lawyer, thinking Green would do a better job since he had paid her some of the money he owed. But once he was back in jail, he said Green seemed more adversary than advocate. She showed little interest in pursuing evidence that would have helped him, he said, and she shot down his hope of going to trial.
"She was just in a hurry to get rid of me," said Lopez, who now is serving five years in prison on a plea deal.
Green declined to comment for this story. But her husband and office partner, Robert Behrens, said he and Green typically stay on cases unless they spend money to hunt down clients. At that point, it creates a conflict of interest, he said.
Even then, however, records show they often stay on as the attorneys. Behrens said they make exceptions in those cases, too, if the client asks them to remain. A broken bond contract won't keep him from zealously fighting as the lawyer, he said.
"Most of them are extremely grateful that you're willing to work with them," Behrens said. "The two obligations are completely separate in my mind. That's not going to impact whether I'll represent them to the best of my ability."
He called Lopez's complaint "buyer's remorse" and noted that Lopez signed the standard papers swearing that no one forced into him into the deal.
Disputed case
In other instances, Green's bonds have become problematic for fellow attorneys. Many clients first seek her out for their bail, which then triggers her obligation as attorney.
Sometimes, inmates bailed out by Green already have a lawyer.
When Erik Hull was arrested in 2005 on charges of sexually assaulting his girlfriend's daughter and held on a $500,000 bond, he hired attorney William Baskette, who got the bond lowered to $100,000. Then, Hull paid Green to bail him out and Green designated herself as his lawyer.
A month later, Green bailed out Hull's ex-girlfriend, who had called police to arrest Hull. She was pressing charges on her daughter's behalf. Green also became the attorney for the ex-girlfriend, who was arrested at the same time as Hull on a charge of promotion of child pornography because Hull told police that she had given him explicit photos of her daughter to sell, records show.
Green's move galled Baskette because Green held the key to his client's freedom — and remained on the legal pleadings as Hull's attorney — even as she represented one of the star witnesses against him. Meanwhile, Hull was the main witness against his ex-girlfriend.
"To me that was scandalous," Baskette said.
He wrote Green a letter in June 2006 expressing his concerns. Green responded in a letter saying his worries were "moot" since the ex-girlfriend had pleaded guilty in the prior month and, thus, Green was no longer the woman's attorney. It did little to allay Baskette's fears because Hull's plea bargain was still in the offing.
Behrens disputes that there was ever a conflict because both Hull and the ex-girlfriend were saying they were innocent, he said.
"At the time the bonds were posted there were no apparent conflicts of interest because both parties were denying liability," Behrens said.
At the same time, Green was trying to have Hull thrown back in jail because he was behind on payments and, according to her letter, he had failed to report to her office one day earlier that month and didn't call to explain. Green tried twice to drop Hull's bond and have him arrested, saying in court documents she had "reliable information" that he wouldn't appear for court, records show. The requests were denied.
Before leaving his post as an assistant district attorney for 15 years, James Wheat said he noticed a pattern with Green's clients: They seemed to frequently end up back in jail. From his seat across the courtroom aisle, he formed an opinion about how she managed the joint roles.
"There are a lot of attorneys who can do bonds and represent people at the same time and she doesn't seem to be able to do it," said Wheat, now a defense lawyer.
Behrens moved into Green's office in 2004 and later started working with her. Since then, District Judge Sid Harle said he has seen Green dropping fewer bonds.
Behrens said he and Green try hard to work with clients, and are more flexible than many commercial bondsmen.
According to the Texas State Bar, Green has never been disciplined as an attorney. But last year, she faced a criminal charge of her own. She was tried on a felony assault charge stemming from a 2003 incident with the mother of her ex-boyfriend. The jury couldn't reach a verdict — one juror believed she was guilty — and the judge declared a mistrial.
Sitting in jail
Green's entry into the case of Rudy Medina stirred confusion over who his lawyer was. Medina's family asked attorney Celeste Ramirez to represent him on a charge of aggravated sexual assault of a child in January 2006.
Two days later, Green posted his bond for $100,000. Green and Behrens soon filed papers saying they'd been hired as his lawyers. But by June 2006, Medina was back in jail facing a new burglary charge. His arrest ended Green's obligation on the bond, but clouded her role as attorney.
The next month, Behrens filed a motion to withdraw from the legal case, which wasn't granted.
Ten months later, confusion over who Medina's attorney was remained. In April 2007, Behrens asked for a continuance, saying Medina had hired another attorney — Celeste Ramirez. Behrens said in court documents that shortly after Green posted the bond, Ramirez had confirmed that she was Medina's attorney. Because of that, Behrens said he and Green had "not actively been involved in the case."
Ramirez said she never told Behrens that Medina had hired her.
"That's a misrepresentation," Ramirez said. "They knew I wasn't going to get on the case. And I told them why."
She said Medina's family never paid her and she told the family — and Behrens — that she would not be representing Medina.
Medina also was under the impression that Green had remained his attorney. In August 2007 — 15 months after he went back to jail — he pleaded with the judge for help.
"I do not have a valid attorney," he wrote in a letter. "The Kelly Green Firm was my bondsman. But they also told me all fees that were paid toward my bond will apply to my legal fees which was not true because now I'm being told they want $3,500 that I do not have."
He said in the letter that he was innocent of the sexual assault, and admitted to the burglary.
In the end, Medina received a trial date in September 2007, and Behrens showed up as his attorney.
Plea deal withdrawn in bail bondsmen case; second arraignment delayed until May
09:31 AM PST on Saturday, February 23, 2008
By JOHN F. BERRY The Press-Enterprise
SAN BERNARDINO - A plea agreement for the son of former San Bernardino County Sheriff Floyd Tidwell was withdrawn Friday during a court hearing for eight people indicted last year on charges involving the bail-bond industry.
Danial Blayne "Boone" Tidwell, and his attorney, Grover Porter, declined to comment after emerging from a San Bernardino County courtroom, where they had been scheduled to be arraigned. The arraignment was delayed until May 2 by Superior Court Judge Colin Bilash.
Tidwell, 53, and his wife, Shirley Lorraine Tidwell, 47, were among 15 people indicted Dec. 6 by a special criminal grand jury investigating a kickback scheme among bail companies in San Bernardino County.
It was the second time arraignment for the eight defendants in the Tidwell case had been delayed. It originally had been set for Dec. 15.
Outside the courtroom, Deputy District Attorney Bill Lee declined to discuss the plea agreement.
"An offer had been conveyed to Danial Tidwell," Lee said. "It would have been open until today...but it has been withdrawn."
Fifteen people were indicted in three cases by a special criminal grand jury in December.
Most of the indicted had been criminally charged in January 2004 after a two-year district attorney's investigation into the kickback scheme.
The indictments allege that the 15 defendants were based in San Bernardino County and worked for Boone's Bail Bonds, Arzate Bail Bonds and the Bail Hotline.
Most of the charges involve unlawful solicitation, conspiracy for unlawful solicitation and filing false or forged documents.
In June 2003, authorities served 13 search warrants as part of the investigation. Fourteen weapons were found at Danial Tidwell's home in Phelan.
They included two rifles reported stolen from the Fontana Police Department in 1999, two machine-gun pistols banned under the California assault-weapons ban and a rifle and a shotgun belonging to the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department.
Investigators connected the weapons to former Sheriff Floyd Tidwell, who served from 1983 to 1991.
He was sentenced in November 2004 to three years unsupervised probation on four misdemeanor charges related to concealing the 14 weapons. He paid $10,000 in restitution.
Tidwell's other son, Steven Wayne Tidwell, 60, accepted a plea bargain in February 2004, agreeing to surrender his bail-bond license and testify for the prosecution.
Reach John F. Berry at 909-806-3058 or jberry@PE.com
FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. — Wayne Spath is a bail bondsman, which means he is an insurance salesman, a social worker, a lightly regulated law enforcement agent, a real estate appraiser — and a for-profit wing of the American justice system.
What he does, which is posting bail for people accused of crimes in exchange for a fee, is all but unknown in the rest of the world. In England, Canada and other countries, agreeing to pay a defendant’s bond in exchange for money is a crime akin to witness tampering or bribing a juror — a form of obstruction of justice.
Mr. Spath, who is burly, gregarious and intense, owns Brandy Bail Bonds, and he sees his clients in a pleasant and sterile office building just down the street from the courthouse here. But for the handcuffs on the sign out front, it could be a dentist’s office.
“I’ve got to run, but I’ll never leave you in jail,” Mr. Spath said, greeting a frequent customer in his reception area one morning a couple of weeks ago. He turned to a second man and said, “Now, don’t you miss court on me.”
Other countries almost universally reject and condemn Mr. Spath’s trade, in which defendants who are presumed innocent but cannot make bail on their own pay an outsider a nonrefundable fee for their freedom.
“It’s a very American invention,” John Goldkamp, a professor of criminal justice at Temple University, said of the commercial bail bond system. “It’s really the only place in the criminal justice system where a liberty decision is governed by a profit-making businessman who will or will not take your business.”
Although the system is remarkably effective at what it does, four states — Illinois, Kentucky, Oregon and Wisconsin — have abolished commercial bail bonds, relying instead on systems that require deposits to courts instead of payments to private businesses, or that simply trust defendants to return for trial.
Most of the legal establishment, including the American Bar Association and the National District Attorneys Association, hates the bail bond business, saying it discriminates against poor and middle-class defendants, does nothing for public safety, and usurps decisions that ought to be made by the justice system.
Here as in many other areas of the law, the United States goes it alone. American law is, by international standards, a series of innovations and exceptions. From the central role played by juries in civil cases to the election of judges to punitive damages to the disproportionate number of people in prison, the United States has charted a distinctive and idiosyncratic legal path.
Bail is meant to make sure defendants show up for trial. It has ancient roots in English common law, which relied on sworn promises and on pledges of land or property from the defendants or their relatives to make sure they did not flee.
America’s open frontier and entrepreneurial spirit injected an innovation into the process: by the early 1800s, private businesses were allowed to post bail in exchange for payments from the defendants and the promise that they would hunt down the defendants and return them if they failed to appear.
Commercial bail bond companies dominate the pretrial release systems of only two nations, the United States and the Philippines.
The flaw in the system most often cited by critics is that defendants who have not been convicted of a crime and who turn up for every court appearance are nonetheless required to pay a nonrefundable fee to a private business, assuming they do not want to remain in jail.
“Life is not fair, and I probably would feel the same way if I were a defendant,” said Bill Kreins, a spokesman for the Professional Bail Agents of the United States, a trade group. “But the system is the best in world.”
The system costs taxpayers nothing, Mr. Kreins said, and it is exceptionally effective at ensuring that defendants appear for court.
Mr. Spath’s experience confirms that.
If Mr. Spath considers a potential client a good risk, he will post bail in exchange for a nonrefundable 10 percent fee. In a 35-month period ending in November, his records show, Mr. Spath posted about $37 million in bonds — 7,934 of them. That would suggest revenues of about $1.3 million a year, given his fee.
Mr. Spath, who is 62, has seven bail agents working for him, including his daughters Tia and Mia. “It probably costs me 50 grand a month to run this business,” he said.
Mr. Spath hounds his clients relentlessly to make sure they appear for court. If they do not, he must pay the court the full amount unless he can find them and bring them back in short order.
Only 434 of his clients failed to appear for a court date over that period, and Mr. Spath straightened out 338 of those cases within the 60 days allowed by Florida law. In the end, he had to pay up only 76 times.
That is a failure rate of less than 1 percent.
But he had just taken a $100,000 hit. “Everything I worked for this year, I lost because of that one guy,” he said. “If I write a bad bond, it takes me 17 to make it right.”
Mr. Spath had thought the defendant, accused of drug trafficking, was a good bet because he had been cooperating with the government. The defendant is in Brazil now, but Mr. Spath is very good at finding people, and he is not giving up. He is working travel records, phone companies and a former girlfriend, and he is getting closer.
He sometimes requires collateral in addition to his fee, and has accepted rugs, an airplane and a winning Rhode Island lottery ticket. But mostly he is interested in houses.
“In this business, you have to understand real estate,” Mr. Spath said. When the real estate market goes south, he said, bail bondsmen get hurt.
According to the Justice Department and academic studies, the clients of commercial bail bond agencies are more likely to appear for court in the first place and more likely to be captured if they flee than those released under other forms of supervision.
That may be because bail bond companies have financial incentives and choose their clients carefully. They also have more power. In many states, bond enforcement agents, sometimes called bounty hunters, may break into homes of defendants without a warrant, temporarily imprison them and move them across state lines without entering into the extradition process.
Still, critics say, efficiency and business considerations should not trump the evenhanded application of justice.
The experiences in states that have abolished commercial bail bonds, prosecutors say, have been mixed.
“The bail bond system is rife with corruption,” said Joshua Marquis, the district attorney in Clatsop County, Ore. Since bond companies do not compete on price, they have every incentive to collude with lawyers, the police, jail officials and even judges to make sure that bail is high and that attractive clients are funneled to them.
Mr. Kreins, the industry spokesman, acknowledged scandals in Illinois, where “basically all the agents were in collusion with the judges,” and in Louisiana, where sheriffs were also in the mix.
“We have acted responsibly every time an incident has occurred to seek stronger legislation,” Mr. Kreins said. Mr. Marquis, the Oregon prosecutor, said doing away with commercial bonds had affected the justice system in a negative way as well. “The fact of the matter is,” he said, “that in states like Oregon the failure-to-appear rate has skyrocketed.” Oregon uses a combination of court deposits, promises to appear and restrictions on where defendants can live and work.
The rest of the world considers the American system a warning of how not to set up a pretrial release system, F. E. Devine wrote in “Commercial Bail Bonding,” a 1991 book that remains the only comprehensive international survey of the subject.
He said that courts in Australia, India and South Africa had disciplined lawyers for professional misconduct for setting up commercial bail arrangements.
Other countries use a mix of methods to ensure that defendants appear for trial.
Some simply keep defendants in jail until trial. Others ask defendants to promise to turn up for trial. Some make failure to appear a separate crime. Some impose strict conditions on release, like reporting to the police frequently. Some make defendants liable for a given sum should they fail to appear but do not collect it up front. Others require a deposit in cash from the defendant, family members or friends, which is returned when the defendant appears.
But injecting money into the equation, even without the bond company’s fee, is the exception. “Even purged of commercialism, most countries avoid a bail system based chiefly on financial security deposits,” Mr. Devine wrote.
In the United States, the use of commercial bail bonds is rising, and they became the most popular form of pretrial release in 1998. More than 40 percent of felony defendants released before trial paid a bail bond company in 2004, up from 24 percent a decade earlier, according to the Justice Department.
Forty percent of people released on bail are eventually acquitted or have the charges against them dropped. Quite a few of them paid a substantial and nonrefundable fee to remain free in the meantime.
Kate Santana, a 20-year-old waitress, had spent eight days in jail when she found her way to Mr. Spath.
“Me and my husband got into a fight,” Ms. Santana explained, “and the cops were called and I was arrested because there was a bite mark on his shoulder.”
Mr. Spath took her $200 and posted her $2,000 bail. “I checked her criminal history out,” he said. “I found out she was a mother and really she shouldn’t be in jail.”
But when a friend of a man accused of identity theft and perjury turned up seeking a $16,000 bond, Mr. Spath took a different attitude. “You bet your fanny I’m going to take collateral,” he said. “I’ll take his firstborn.”
Mr. Spath is not much concerned with how the rest of the world views commercial bail bonds, but he was worked up about recent talk of a greater government role in pretrial release here in Broward County.
“Here’s what everybody forgets,” he said. “The taxpayers have to pay for these programs. Why should they pay for them? Why should they? When we can provide the same service for free. I’d rather see the money spent in parks, mental health issues, the homeless. Let the private sector do it. We do it better.”
OrlandoSentinel.com
OTHER VIEWS My WORD
Decrease in accountability hurts community's safety
Consequences of taxpayer-funded pretrial release
Michael Snapp
February 1, 2008
What would happen if the criminal-justice system -- in an attempt to cut costs and reduce jail overcrowding -- released child abusers, felony drug users, illegal immigrants, people charged with domestic violence and car thieves from jail? Even worse, what if you knew that these people weren't being closely monitored?
What if there was a better solution -- one that still relieves jail overcrowding, but also has a significantly better track record when it comes to tracking defendants -- was available, but being underutilized?
Unfortunately, that's exactly what's happening in Orange County. Criminals, often with lengthy criminal histories, are being released -- without adequate monitoring -- on to our streets as they await their day in court. From the initial arrest through the last appearance in court, an alleged criminal must be held responsible. And, that's where the government-funded -- really, taxpayer-funded -- pretrial-release program falls short.
Approximately two-thirds of those arrested are released through the pretrial-release program. Many walk the streets on their own recognizance -- without any financial "handcuffs" or incentive to stay out of trouble and to show up for court.
Pretrial release -- which is used today to keep jail-related costs down -- is not working. As a bail bondsman for nearly 30 years, I can attest to the evolution of the criminal-justice system -- and how the decrease in accountability has directly impacted our community's safety. No accountability means no responsibility. No lessons learned. No reason to change.
But there's an alternative: commercial-surety bail. The private bail industry has a remarkably successful track record of partnering with the criminal-justice system to monitor defendants awaiting their day in court. Plus, there's an added level of accountability. The courts hold bail agents responsible for the actions of their customers. For example, we're financially responsible if one of our customers fails to show up for court. We write the court a check. As such, we work extra hard to make sure our clients stay out of trouble and attend their court hearings -- at no extra cost to taxpayers.
When I first got into this business, most of the defendants were released on bail -- meaning alleged criminals were held responsible for paying for their own release. It wasn't as simple as "get out of jail free." Bail serves as an added incentive to show up in court and to stay out of trouble in the meantime. However, with pretrial release, an alleged criminal might have to check in weekly by phone with little or no face-to-face contact. That's not enough.
During the next budgeting cycle in July, Orange County commissioners may be asked to consider bolstering pretrial release to further relieve jail overcrowding. We need to remember the consequences of a strong pretrial-release system, and how it affects the entire community.
The jail may be less crowded -- easing the burden on the county's budget -- but criminals are walking the streets without the appropriate safeguards to protect our community's safety.
We must do more.
The first step: Infuse the criminal-justice system with accountability that starts from the day of arrest.
Michael Snapp, owner of Mike Snapp Bail Bonds, has been a bail agent since 1978.
Another suspect arrested in Collier jail bail bond case
By AISLING SWIFT
Monday, January 28, 2008
A 44-year-old unemployed Naples painter accused of soliciting business inside the Collier County jail for a local bail bondsman has been arrested as part of an ongoing investigation into illegal bond dealings.
Craig Edward Richardson’s arrest Thursday night comes after additional charges were filed against Juanita Williams, office manager for one of bondsman Joe Houston’s firms — Express Bail Bonds. The joint investigation by the Sheriff’s Office and State Department of Financial Services has focused on Houston and his two firms, Express and Liberty Bail Bonds.
Richardson is charged with being a felon acting as a bail bondsman and acting as a bail bond agent without a license. His bond was set at $5,000 and he remains jailed because he’s still serving time in state prison and is not scheduled to be released until February 2010.
State prison records show Richardson has 21 aliases and has been arrested for 13 crimes that resulted in state prison time since 1984 and 20 crimes that ended in probation or house arrest. His convictions include grand theft, grand theft auto, escape, attempted escape, drug offenses, forgery, and resisting arrest with violence, and numerous charges of driving while his license was revoked, a habitual offender.
Richardson is accused of soliciting business for Houston’s firms while he was an inmate at the county jail. Each third-degree felony is punishable by a term of up to five years in state prison.
Another inmate, Patrick Carmen Rosemellia, also faces the same charges and was arrested in December. Court records show Rosemellia was arrested and jailed 15 times between 1993 and last year on misdemeanor charges, and 16 times between 1996 and 2006 on felony charges ranging from drug offenses to battery and grand theft auto. He’s also been jailed on suspicion of violating house arrest and violating probation.
Williams, 50, of 2125 East Crown Pointe Blvd., Naples, surrendered herself at the Sarasota County jail on Jan. 19 and is charged with failing to return bond collateral and two collateral security violations. In December, she was arrested on charges of permitting a felon to act as a bail bond agent and allowing someone to act as a bail bond agent without a license, both third-degree felonies. She also was charged with soliciting business in jail, a first-degree misdemeanor punishable by a maximum one-year jail term.
Houston, known as Teflon Joe in the bond business, faces the same charges. And another employee, Zenova Abrahams, 39, of 1321 Wildwood Lakes Blvd., East Naples, also was charged last month with the two felonies. They’ve since been released on bond posted by Houston’s firm.
Court affidavits show that Collier County sheriff’s investigators received information in December 2006 that indicated Houston was paying at least five jail inmates to solicit inmates to use only his businesses. By monitoring and recording inmate phone calls, the affidavits show, investigators learned that between Dec. 1, 2006, and March 23, 2007, there were 173 phone calls to Express Bail Bonds and Liberty Bail Bonds.
Inmates were paid through money orders being placed into their commissary accounts, which are used to buy snacks and personal items, authorities said. Surveillance video from a local bank showed the person purchasing the money orders was an employee of Express and Liberty bail bonds.
It’s against Florida law for a bail bondsman to directly or indirectly solicit business in or around a jail or prison. Bond requests must be initiated by an inmate, an inmate’s attorney or a family member.
