Bail Bondsman Advocating for Further Fixes to New York Bail Reform

Ricardo Nieves at his office in Monticello, New York, on Dec. 6, 2022. Cara Ding/The Epoch Times

Ricardo Nieves started a bail bonds business at an unlikely time.

In April, he opened the door in Monticello, New York, when the bail bonds industry continued to downsize as a direct result of the 2019 state bail reform.

The reform dealt away with bail for most misdemeanors and nonviolent felonies. For those offenses, defendants are to be released after arrest without paying any money.

Since the passage of the reform, the Legislature has attempted to fix it twice by allowing judges to set bail on a few more crimes. However, the number of bail-eligible offenses is still significantly lower than before the reform—and so is the demand for bail bonds.

Words of inspiration on the wall of the waiting room inside Ricardo Nieves's office in Monticello, New York, on Dec. 6, 2022. Cara Ding/The Epoch Times

The state has 172 active bail agents, according to the current listing by the Department of Financial Services, whereas that number was 205 about two years ago, based on a news report by Garnett New York.

The number will likely decline further if more agents sit out their two-year licenses.

Even so, Nieves saw opportunities.

“Another way to look at this is I might get to pick up some businesses when more bondsmen close their offices,” Nieves told The Epoch Times. “My phone is starting to ring now.”

A second-generation Puerto Rican, he speaks fluent Spanish, which allows him to serve the growing Latino population in Sullivan and nearby Orange County.

Since April, Nieves has served about 40 clients—a growing clientele but one that still falls short of sustaining the business.

“I’m losing more money than I made this year, but hopefully, it gets better before it gets worse,” Nieves said.

“I hope there are going to be more legislative changes down the road and that they are going to give our judges more power to set monetary bail.”

That hope isn’t just out of a need to sustain his business but also a belief that bail and bail bonds serve a purpose in the criminal justice system and the larger society, he added.

Bail Bonds Matter

The primary purpose of bail is to make sure a defendant returns to future court proceedings.

Upon paying the bail amount set by a judge, a defendant can be immediately released from jail; the full payment will be returned to the defendant or the payer following the conclusion of the case.

When a defendant—or his family or friends—can’t afford bail, they can use a service called bail bonds, in which licensed bail agents pay for the bail in return for a premium.

The state law sets the maximum premium that can be charged, usually less than 10 percent of the bail amount.

A bail bond schedule on the wall of Ricardo Nieves's office in Monticello, New York, on Dec. 6, 2022. Cara Ding/The Epoch Times

“When your loved one puts up a certain amount of money to get you out, you are responsible to somebody,” Nieves said. “I have a grandmother paying $1,000 for her grandson, and he owes it to her. That can be the mitigating factor that keeps that young man coming back to court to comply with whatever needs to be done.”

“If people are released on their own recognizance, he doesn’t have anything to lose, and he doesn’t have nothing invested in [coming back to court,]” he added.

Upon signing a bail bonds contract, Nieves will meet with the defendant within 24 hours of release and make check-in calls at least once a week to make sure they are complying with court orders, he said.

“I believe that we serve a purpose of ensuring that individual goes back to court to fill out the necessary requirements of the judicial system,” he said.

Screening Defendants

If a person fails to comply, Nieves, as a bond agent, has the legal power to revoke the contract and get a licensed bond enforcement agent to arrest the defendant and bring him back to jail.

Before becoming a bond agent, Nieves was a part-time bond enforcement agent for about 10 years, hunting down fugitives in Sullivan and Orange County, New York City, and Pennsylvania.

It was a risky job—the last resort that he hopes he doesn’t have to turn to as a bail agent, he said.

Pictures of family members and close friends in military service on the wall of Ricardo Nieves's office in Monticello, New York, on Dec. 6, 2022. Cara Ding/The Epoch Times

He mitigates risk by screening defendants carefully, including looking into their criminal backgrounds and court records. He also gauges the commitment of the family members who put up the money and most likely know the defendants better than he does.

“I ask them, ‘Do you really want to get this individual out? Because you must understand that if that individual fails to comply, I’m looking to garnish your wages, I’m looking to put a lien on your vehicle or your house, and I might even have to take you to court to get my money back,’” he said.

The contract usually involves collateral terms in the event of default.

“If people have second thoughts about bonding someone out, maybe I don’t want to take that risk either,” he said.

“I’m not the judge, and I’m not here to judge anyone, but at the same time, I have a responsibility and a liability.”

2nd Chance

The business isn’t only about bonding people out but also about breaking the cycle for some defendants, he said.

“How can I keep them from not going back to jail? That was my main goal by starting the office,” he said. “How can you cut down on prison recidivism? How can you stop somebody from going through the revolving door?”

Part of the solution is to restore a sense of responsibility and a concern about following rules in them, he said.

He added his work as a bond agent involves having family members get behind the defendants and a binding contract with rules and consequences, which could help cultivate a sense of responsibility.

A biblical word of inspiration on the wall of Ricardo Nieves's office in Monticello, New York, on Dec. 6, 2022. Cara Ding/The Epoch Times

He also refers people to substance abuse treatment services and charitable organizations for help.

Nieves developed a firm faith in a second chance for convicts because of his life trajectory.

After leaving the U.S. Navy as a young man, Nieves was addicted to cocaine for almost 20 years and went to prison for a drug crime in Brooklyn. He became drug-free in 1995 and reinvented himself late in life as a small-business owner and ran for mayor in Woodridge two years ago, losing by a five-point margin.

“When I was incarcerated, I cried myself to sleep many nights. And it wasn’t me being afraid of where I was; it was about having a sense of guilt, shame, and abandonment,” he said. “The prison did rescue me. I’m not the same individual that went there.”

“So don’t tell me that it’s alright for you to engage in distorted thinking and say it is alright to break the law and get a slap on the wrist,” he said.

“There is a saying from the TV show ‘Baretta’—‘If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.’ You got to change the mindset, it starts from here.”