The Fight Against Crime: Notes From the Front : Bail Bondsman Finds Career a Tough Call

If there was such a thing as the bail bondsman’s handbook, it would have a warning or two for the would-be purveyor of bail bonds.

First, such a book would certainly warn that the job is not exactly the kind of employment choice likely to impress the Joneses--or probably anyone else on the free side of jail bars.

Next, the guide would advise prospective bondsmen that it isn’t the sort of work that is likely to make them rich, and very possibly could make them very poor.

And finally, the book would give perhaps the most obvious point of all: The clientele might not be the kind of folks you’d want to date your daughter or son.

But being a bail bondsman, said Bert Potter, does have its advantages.

Potter operates five offices, including one near the Van Nuys Courthouse that the company’s advertisement in the Yellow Pages claims is just “100 Yards From the Jail.”

“It gives you a chance to help people out who need it,” said Potter, who has been in the business for 30 years.

Potter talks in a gruff manner, and constantly alludes to topics he says he cannot talk about. The details of cases are an example--he’s afraid he might get sued. He won’t say where he lives, how much money he makes or even how many customers he has.

He says he not only has to guard his safety, but protect the tricks of the trade, you know.

“This,” he said, in a slightly conspiratorial tone, “is a very competitive business.”

Typically, Potter said, the business works this way:

A family member of someone accused of a crime comes into one of Potter’s offices, and asks for help because a typical bail of $1,000 is often out of reach. About 85% of those jailed in lieu of bail have been arrested for drug-related offenses, he said.

With a bondsman, customers usually put down about 10% of the amount of the bond. In turn, the bondsman gives the court a “surety” bond, which means that when the suspect is released on bail, the bondsman is responsible if the accused fails to show for the next court date.

If the person jumps bail, the bondsman must pay the bond and then go after the family to try and collect the money.

The most important business practice for Potter and his fellow bondsmen is to make sure that the family has sufficient collateral in case the suspect decides to skip his or her next court date.

But, Potter said, even if the family does not have enough collateral, he is often willing to cut a deal. The most common form of collateral is a car.

“Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s usually the wife or someone else from the family who comes in for the person in jail,” he said. “The arrest of this person has caused a disruption, but everyone’s pulling together. It makes you feel OK, because this is a guy who still has a good reputation with his family.”

The involvement of a family member however, does not always guarantee the intended result.

“A lot of times, someone has called from jail and asked me to call their mother,” Potter said. “Then when I do, the mom tells me, ‘I don’t want to help him. He already stole my county check and my color TV.’ ”

The key to avoid getting ripped off too often is for the bondsman to strike a balance between being too trusting and too stingy. By granting bail to everyone, more bonds will go bad because more clients will be bail jumpers. On the other hand, turning away too many people for fear that the suspect won’t show up in court won’t make any money.

“There are some bondsmen who write themselves out of business,” said Potter, referring to those who write too many bonds. “You see, to do this, you have to have faith in human nature. You have to believe in people. . . . but there are limits.”

In the end, Potter said, about one out of every 10 people jump bail. Of those, he said, many have been killed back out on the street. “It happens probably at least once every 90 days or so,” he said, adding that the most he has ever lost is $250,000. If the bail jumpers are not dead, Potter hires a private investigator to find out where they are. He said he has sent investigators to Mexico and Colombia to bring people back.

And the prospects for continued business are good. About 1 million people in Los Angeles County have outstanding arrest warrants.

So, said Potter, you wanna be a bondsman? “All you have to do,” he said, “is go down to the meat market and buy yourself some guts.”