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newstfionline · 6 years

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When Bail Feels Less Like Freedom, More Like Extortion

By Jessica Silver-Greenberg and Shaila Dewan, NY Times, March 31, 2018

Most bail bond agents make it their business to get their clients to court. But when Ronald Egana showed up at the criminal courthouse in New Orleans, he was surprised to find that his bondsman wanted to stop him.

A bounty hunter was waiting at the courthouse metal detector to intercept Mr. Egana and haul him to the bond company office, he said. The reason: The bondsman wanted to get paid.

Mr. Egana ended up in handcuffs, missing his court appearance while the agency got his mother on the phone and demanded more than $1,500 in overdue payments, according to a lawsuit. It was not the first time Mr. Egana had been held captive by the bond company, he said, nor would it be the last. Each time, his friends or family was forced to pay more to get him released, he said.

As commercial bail has grown into a $2 billion industry, bond agents have become the payday lenders of the criminal justice world, offering quick relief to desperate customers at high prices. When clients like Mr. Egana cannot afford to pay the bond company’s fee to get them out, bond agents simply loan them the money, allowing them to go on a payment plan.

But bondsmen have extraordinary powers that most lenders do not. They are supposed to return their clients to jail if they skip court or do something illegal. But some states give them broad latitude to arrest their clients for any reason--or none at all. A credit card company cannot jail someone for missing a payment. A bondsman, in many instances, can.

Using that leverage, bond agents can charge steep fees, some of which are illegal, with impunity, according to interviews and a review of court records and complaint data. They can also go far beyond the demands of other creditors by requiring their clients to check in regularly, keep a curfew, allow searches of their car or home at any time, and open their medical, Social Security and phone records to inspection.

They keep a close eye on their clients, but in many places, no one is keeping a close eye on them.

“It’s a consumer protection issue,” said Judge Lee V. Coffee, a criminal court judge in Memphis. Before recent changes to the rules there, he said, defendants frequently complained of shakedowns in which bondsmen demanded extra payments. “They’re living under a constant daily threat that ‘if you don’t bring more money, we’re going to put you in jail.’” The pressure, the judge said, “would actually encourage people to go out and commit more crimes.”

Unlike payday lenders, the bail bond industry deals with potential criminals whose very involvement with the law raises questions about their trustworthiness. But in the United States criminal justice system, the Supreme Court has affirmed, liberty before trial is supposed to be the norm, not the exception--the system is intended to allow defendants to stay out of jail.

Some bail bond practices have drawn the ire of judges who complain that payment plans are too lenient on people accused of serious crimes, allowing them to get out for just a few hundred dollars or even no money down. Those judges say it should be more difficult for the accused to walk free.

Other judges see some bondsmen as trampling the rights of defendants. One judge in Lafayette, La., Jules Edwards III, held in contempt two bondsmen who were brothers for intercepting a defendant on his way to court and sending him, instead, to jail.

The judge said the commercial bail industry had put its financial interests above justice and public safety. “If he’s not in compliance with the contract, sue him. How do you get to snatch his body and hold him hostage?” Judge Edwards said in a phone interview.

He added that defendants do not have to go with their bondsmen unless there is a warrant out for their arrest, but many of them do not know that. “What they’re doing is intimidating and coercing and lying,” he said. The brothers declined to comment.

In both Mr. Egana’s case and this one, the bondsmen would not have been on the hook for the defendants’ failure to appear, because they diverted the defendants from court dates for unrelated cases, not the ones for which they had bailed them out.

The bond agency, Blair’s Bail Bonds, stopped Mr. Egana, who had prior felony convictions, from going to court on charges of fleeing an officer, but had bailed him out in June 2016 after he was arrested on charges of possession of marijuana, a firearm and stolen property.

Had Mr. Egana been wealthier, he might have been able to post his full bail of $26,000, then gotten it back when he returned for court. But like most defendants, Mr. Egana had to turn to a commercial bail bond agent that charges a nonrefundable fee for the service of guaranteeing the bond.

Not only could Mr. Egana not afford the full bail, he could not afford the fee, $3,275. He arranged to pay it in installments. After his release, he said, Blair’s informed him that on top of the premium, he would have to pay $10 a day for an ankle monitor, though the judge had not ordered one. Guilty or innocent, Mr. Egana would never see any of that money again. Blair’s has denied any wrongdoing in the matter.

Some customers feel they have no choice but to pay bond agents’ fees--no matter how outrageous they seem. When a home health care aide wanted to bail her son out of Rikers Island in New York City, she was charged $1,000 to have a courier walk her money a few blocks to the courthouse.

A defendant in a serious domestic violence case in Santa Clara, Calif., suffering from a dangerous heart condition, had to have his ankle monitor removed each time he went to the hospital, and was forced to pay $300 to have it put back on afterward.

A woman in Des Moines woke one morning to find that her 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix had been repossessed during the night. Had she put up her car as collateral in a typical loan, she would have been notified that she had fallen behind and given 20 days to pay.

But instead, the car was collateral for a bail bond for her child’s father. She owed $700 to the bail agents. They not only took the car, but turned the father over to the jail. Ultimately the misdemeanor assault charges against him were dismissed.

Bond companies fall into a sort of regulatory gulf between criminal courts and state insurance departments, which are supposed to regulate them but seldom impose sanctions. With rare exception, defense lawyers and prosecutors are too busy with their caseloads to keep bond companies in line. Further complicating things, it is often unclear whether consumer protection laws apply, and insurance departments say they lack the resources to investigate complaints.

In the case of Mr. Egana, who worked as a carpenter, it did not take long for him to fall behind on his payments. But he thought that since he was routinely showing up to court, he would be fine.

He was wrong. The bond company detained him several more times, according to court records. At one point, two men with guns and bulletproof vests came to the home where he was working as a contractor and forced him into a car. Each time, they demanded that his mother pay more money.

“It was kidnapping,” Mr. Egana said. “They saw the love that my mom has for me, and they used that to their advantage.”

In May, Blair’s decided it no longer wanted Mr. Egana as a customer and handed him over to the jail.

The use of bail bonds has come under attack in recent years because it keeps the poorest, rather than the most dangerous, defendants behind bars.

State after state has taken steps to reduce or eliminate the practice of making that freedom contingent on money. In response, the bond industry has worked to undermine reforms and regulations, arguing that commercial bail is still the most efficient and taxpayer-friendly way to keep the public safe and the courts running smoothly.

The bond agent takes a fee in exchange for guaranteeing the amount of the bail on the defendant’s behalf. But the fee--or premium--usually about 10 percent, is too high for many defendants, the vast majority of whom are poor. So they arrange a payment plan. The debt, paid over weeks or months of installments, can outlast the criminal case.

The arrangement can include steep late fees or require signing over collateral worth many times what is owed. And while defendants, or the family members and friends who often shoulder the costs, typically pay no interest as long as their payments are on time, if they go into default they can trigger annual interest rates as high as 30 percent.

Commercial bail fees, often scraped together by multiple family members, siphon millions from poor, predominantly African-American and Hispanic communities. Over a five-year span, Maryland families paid more than $256 million in nonrefundable bail premiums, according to a report by the state’s Office of the Public Defender. More than $75 million of that was paid in cases resolved with no finding of guilt, and the vast majority of it was paid by black families.

In 2015, New Orleans families paid $6.4 million in premiums and fees, the Vera Institute of Justice found. In New York City last year, bond companies collected between $16 million and $27 million, “a sizable transfer of wealth,” noted Scott Stringer, the city comptroller, “to the pockets of opportunistic bail bond agents.”

The entire premise on which the commercial bail system is built--that when defendants skip bail, someone must either find them or pay, is somewhat illusory.

The image of the industry, encapsulated by Dog the Bounty Hunter chasing down outlaws on television, is one of danger and high stakes.

But in most cases where defendants miss court, a bond agent may not have to do anything. Many states allow months for a defendant to be found. In Texas, bond agents have nine months before a felony bail is forfeited. In Colorado, according to the American Bail Coalition, even after a bond is paid, the agent has two years to find the missing defendant and get the money back.

With so much time, many defendants will resurface on their own, or be caught during a traffic stop or other law enforcement interaction, without any effort on the bond agent’s part.

Together, the surety companies and the bail bond agents collect about $2 billion a year in revenue, according to an analysis by Color of Change, a nonprofit focused on racial justice, and the American Civil Liberties Union. “Bail insurers have shaped the entire industry, as well as the laws they operate under, to safeguard their profits at the expense of people’s lives,” said Rashad Robinson, the executive director of Color of Change.

Between 2010 and 2015 in California, the number of bail complaints to the Department of Insurance nearly quadrupled and became more serious, the department said, with common grievances including kidnapping and false imprisonment for purposes of extortion, forged property liens and death certificates, and theft or embezzlement of collateral.

Complaints about bail bond agents have flooded into insurance regulators across the country, but rarely result in meaningful punishment.

Part of the problem, regulators say, is that they are outmatched and do not have the resources to investigate abuses. The California insurance commissioner, Dave Jones, said he had twice tried to get a law passed to pay for bail investigations, but both times it was defeated after lobbying by the bond industry.

It is not hard to find people whose entire lives have been upended by the bail bond industry. Some defendants wind up in jail for no offense other than falling behind on their bail payments. Others decide to plead guilty to crimes that they did not commit just to escape from the financial demands of their bondsman.

Frankie Bell’s troubles began last January in New Orleans, when she was charged with misdemeanor domestic abuse after getting into a squabble with her boyfriend. Ms. Bell, 26, had no criminal record. With help from her uncle, she was able to pay the $1,500 premium. But the bond company, citing the fact that she had a Texas driver’s license, required her to wear an ankle monitor--at a cost of $300 a month.

It took less than two weeks for Ms. Bell, who is mentally impaired and lives on $700 a month in disability payments, to fall behind. Almost immediately, the calls from her bail bond company began, she said. “They would threaten to put me back in jail,” she said. “They said they would send the police to my house, arrest me and throw me into a cell.”

Ms. Bell said she tried panhandling on the street, begging her friends for money, and letting other bills slide. Still, by the time she appeared in court in April, she was $800 behind. Ms. Bell had maintained her innocence from the start, but faced a stark decision: plead guilty in a deal that spared her any jail time, or risk being locked up before trial for failing to pay the bond agent. “I don’t want people to think of me as a criminal,” she said, “but I just wanted it all to end.”

Often, even pleading guilty is not enough to get free of the bond agent’s power, since defendants may still owe money. Christopher Franklin pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor assault charge in February 2017. He had paid his bondsman, Rodney Sawyers, more than $4,000, and owed only $300 more.

But about a week later, Mr. Franklin said, Mr. Sawyers showed up at his house in Charlotte, N.C., in the middle of the night, pounding on the front door.

Mr. Franklin stumbled to answer, disoriented and groggy. Mr. Sawyers muscled his way in, Mr. Franklin said, handcuffed him and drove him to jail.

Mr. Franklin’s public defender in the case, Eli Timberg, said he has routinely had clients returned to jail for not paying their bondsmen, but Mr. Franklin’s case stood out. “There were no active charges,” Mr. Timberg said. “No bond out for him. It was unbelievable.”

Even the jail staff seemed perplexed when Mr. Franklin arrived, he said, since his case was no longer pending. After five hours, he was released.

#bail #bail bond agents #bail bondsmen

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evinayak · 7 years

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Authorities arrest local (US based ) dad in international custody case

Authorities arrest local dad in international custody case Daniel Connolly | USA TODAY NETWORK – Tennessee Updated 2:48 p.m. CT Feb. 7, 2017 The Memphis father arrested on federal abduction charges in an international child custody dispute agreed Monday to help return his 2½-year-old son from India, leaving his estranged wife hoping to see their child soon. "I'm hoping my son will be back this week," said the boy's mother, Siminder Kaur, 33. But she said she's not taking success for granted. Vaneet Singh's arrest Friday marked a dramatic turn of events in an intense custody fight stretching from India to Collierville. Singh faces charges of international parental kidnapping and conspiracy, according to court records. FBI Special Agent Ryan E. Arton wrote in an affidavit that there is probable cause to believe Singh conspired with his parents to keep the toddler Anhad Singh in India and obstruct the parental rights of the mother. The mother and father are legal permanent residents from India who live and work in the Memphis area. Their son was born in Germantown in 2014, making him a U.S. citizen. He's been in India since late 2015. Singh's arrest came a day after the state Court of Appeals in Jackson, Tennessee dismissed the father's appeal in a civil child custody case, Arton's affidavit states. Lawyers for the father had argued an Indian court should decide the case. An attorney for the father, Jack Irvine, said Singh doesn't deserve criminal charges. "We don't think there's been a crime committed at all . . . The child is subject to what we believe is a lawful court order in India." At a Monday morning bail hearing, assistant U.S. Atty. Tony Arvin said the two sides had agreed to conditions for Singh's release. Bond was set at $20,000, and $2,000 of that must be paid in cash. Singh will have to wear an ankle monitor and has already given up his only travel document, an Indian passport. "He further agrees that he will cooperate with authorities in facilitating the return of his child from India," the prosecutor said. U.S. Magistrate Judge Charmaine G. Claxton agreed to order Singh released on bond, saying, "Hopefully this will all resolve amicably." Attorneys for the two sides wouldn't comment on the possibility that the criminal charges against Singh might be dropped if he brings back the child. His estranged wife watched proceedings from a bench in the courtroom. Singh, a 36-year-old clinical scientist with medical device maker Medtronic, said little during the hearing. He wore a tan jail uniform, a black head covering and had his hands shackled in front of him to a belt. He's been ordered not to contact his estranged wife, and officers kept him separated from her in the hallway as they led him onto an elevator. His release on bond was expected later Monday. Kaur, a Collierville resident who works in software development for International Paper, has campaigned for her case on social media, filed numerous lawsuits and brought complaints to various agencies. She said she pressured the FBI to act. "Ultimately, they were convinced and they went and picked (Singh) up," she said, adding: "I feel bad for him, but he put himself (in the situation) there." Mom fighting to bring son from India They had married in 2008, moved to the Memphis area and in 2015 traveled to India for a wedding. Dealing with marital problems, they left their young son with the husband's parents in India so they could work on their problems on their own for a time. But the marriage got worse, they stopped living together, and the mother returned to India in 2016 to retrieve their son. She said her father's parents blocked her, and she stayed for months in the country, filing numerous legal complaints. She returned to the Memphis area and filed a lawsuit in a local court. The judge ruled the father should return the child, but his attorneys appealed to a higher court, arguing an Indian court should decide. The appeals court rejected that claim Thursday. The arrest comes as India reviews its earlier decision not to sign the Hague Convention, an international treaty that governs child custody cases. Kaur has kept up a steady stream of posts on social media to pressure the Indian government to sign the treaty, which would obligate India to return abducted children to the country where they've been living. A meeting on the Hague Convention last week in India ended inconclusively. India has persistently failed to work with the United States to resolve parental abduction cases, the U.S. Department of State wrote in a recent report. As of December 2015, the state department was involved in 83 cases in India. The only other country with more open cases was Mexico, with 138. Unlike India, Mexico has signed the Hague Convention. Originally Published 9:11 a.m. CT Feb. 6, 2017 Updated 2:48 p.m. CT Feb. 7, 2017 Source http://www.commercialappeal.com/story/news/local/suburbs/collierville/2017/02/06/authoritiess-arrest-local-father-international-custody-case/97543916/

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