At least a percentage of customers who walk in the door are willing to bilk you.
Welcome to the bail bond business.
Although many associate bail bondsmen with “Dog the Bounty Hunter,” every TV episode of that shows instances in which the bail bonds process has gone wrong, said Don Castle, owner of Castle Bail Bonds of Springfield.
Castle said he has a good investigator he uses 99 percent of the time he has to go after someone who is skipping bail.
“But I don’t like to use him,” Castle said.
His saying is, “I need him, but I don’t like to feed him” — Castle’s way of saying that every time people he’s bonded out don’t show up to court and he has to use the investigator, it’s a business expense.
It’s a danger, too, said Jeff Brown at Jeff Brown Bail Bonds of Springfield.
Those unwilling to show up to jail, are “apt to do a lot of things,” said Brown, who sometimes tracks people down himself.
“That’s probably my least favorite part,” said the former baseball and football coach, who is a hefty man.
Not only can it be dangerous in a world in which guns often get into the hands of people who shouldn’t have them, he said, but there’s not much glory involved “when you’re sitting and staring at a house (a suspect is thought to be in) for 10 hours.”
Arrest
The bail bond business begins with an arrest.
Tamera Belcher, who has worked with Castle for more than 18 years, said that on many common offenses there’s a standard schedule for posting bonds. For more serious offenses, defendants must see a judge before bond is set.
The purpose of bond is to make sure people show up in court to answer charges against them. Courts sometimes will release defendants on their own recognizance, trusting the defendants will show up on their own.
A judge might instead require them to post 10 percent of a given bond, the full amount of which might be required if the defendant fails to show up.
In other cases, the court will require a surety bond.
In the case of a $1,000 surety bond, people who want to bond out of jail have two options:
• To post their own $1,000 with the court — all of which they can get back when their case is finished.
• Those who can’t afford the bond can pay a bondsman 10 percent of it — in this example, a $100 fee.
The bail bondsman keeps that fee and assumes the risk for the other $900.
“If you don’t go to court, and we can’t find you,” said Castle, “we have to pay the court or they shut down our business.”
Castle likens the bail bond business to a lender that issues high-risk loans: The key to surviving is risk assessment.
One aspect of that concerns the defendant.
“The first consideration for us is the charge, the severity of the charge, and the amount of the bond,” said Brown.
“The other part is history,” Brown added. “If they’ve already failed to appear or if they have charges where they haven’t been honest with law enforcement,” those are red flags.
Castle agreed that the severity of the charge — and likelihood of a jail or prison sentence — are important factors for him, too.
But he said those facing serious charges who nonetheless have a strong history of showing up can be good risks, too.
Red flags for Castle include an unwillingness on the part of the defendant’s friends and particularly family to help in paying the 10 percent fee.
There’s a reason for that.
As is the case for Castle, “our client isn’t the person that’s arrested,” Brown said. “It’s the person co-signing” the bond for the person that’s in jail.
That’s the financially responsible party.
That’s why it’s a concern for Castle if the people who know the defendant best aren’t willing to assume the risk.
When they are, the bondsmen still have to do their homework: checking to see whether the co-signer has a steady job and for property that might be seized and sold to raise money if the defendant doesn’t show up.
Bail bondsmen take pride in helping families without resources to post bond, often working out payment plans, if they can.
But there are limits.
“Ultimately,” said Brown, “you can’t set up a payment plan for someone who can’t afford to pay.”
Brown, whose day job is teaching at Keifer Academy, likens the work done once a bond is issued to that of a combination between a probation officer and school counselor.
His agents try to maintain contact with the defendant, remind him or her of the court date, try to keep them on the straight and narrow, and support parents, family and friends who often are trying to influence the person in the same way.
Family and friends also are more likely to help find someone who fails to show up to court.
Brown and Castle, who with Craven and Trimble bail bonds cover the lion’s share of the local market, say they provide a private and public service: They help people who have made a mistake and they relieve pressure on overcrowded jails by providing a way other than incarceration to encourage people to show up to court.
Because of the nature of the business, both also operate several offices.
“We wouldn’t be able to survive in just one market,” said Brown.
Castle has 13 offices and 25 agents statewide — part of a business he’d hoped to franchise in the 1990s but has been unable to do because “the competition’s too stiff.”
And business is lagging.
Although crime remains steady, “ultimately, the amount of business that’s out there for bail bonds has gone down a ton,” he said. “And I think a lot of that’s the economy. If people can’t afford to get out and can’t pay their bills, they’re struggling.”
Contact this reporter at (937) 328-0368.
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