The strange and violent world of St. Louis' bail bondsmen

Because of that policy, had Jackson been freed on bond after his arrest he could still be in the business of bailing other people out of jail. But on October 27, 2005, federal prosecutors declared him "a serious risk to obstruct justice or threaten, injure or intimidate witnesses."

Two weeks later, according to a motion filed by prosecutors, Jackson, who was now being held in the St. Francois County Jail, offered another inmate $50,000 "to get rid of [the ATF's confidential informant] Aaron Smith."

Had Jackson's case not made headlines, it's possible the Department of Insurance wouldn't have known about the charges he was facing until he reapplied for a bail-bond license.

According to Kampeter, bondsmen are not required to notify the insurance department when they are arrested. "Our investigators monitor news reports and court records to track convicted bail bond agents on a regular basis," Kampeter writes in an e-mail. "The agent's fingerprints are checked every two years to monitor his or her criminal record."

In most cases, Kampeter explains, the process of a revoking a bail license begins with someone filing a complaint against a specific agent. Testimony by Heitzler about Glen Thomas Dotson, the bounty hunter employed by Jackson, shows that the problem is that not every act of impropriety gets registered as a complaint.

On June 1, 2006, Dotson, from Silex, Missouri, was arrested by the ATF at the St. Charles county jail. Dotson goes to trial next month. He is charged with providing Jackson with the pistol that would have been used to murder Cox. At a magistrate's hearing the day after his arrest, Heitzler testified about two incidents involving Dotson and Cox that the Department of Insurance had never heard about.

Heitzler described in his testimony how in July 2000, a woman named Diana Jordan skipped bond after being freed from jail by Jackson. After tracking her down, Jackson, Dotson and another bounty hunter handcuffed her and drove her to the middle of a field off of state Highway 47.

According to Heitzler's testimony, Jackson duct-taped Jordan's ankles, hands, and mouth and then slapped her across the face. He then told Jordan they were going to leave her in the field all night and drove away. The party returned a half hour later and brought Jordan to the Warren County Sheriff's Department, where officers noted that she had scratches on her face and wounds on her wrists.

Heitzler also testified that in February 2001, Jackson, Dotson and two other bounty hunters tracked down a couple, Michael and Phyllis Jeffrey, who had failed to appear in court while out on a Jackson bond in Warren County. Jackson and the bounty hunters found them and brought the couple back to a bar that Jackson's wife owned in Troy, Missouri, called Misty Nights.

"Michael Jeffrey was then put in a chair, duct-taped to a chair and handcuffed, and basically tortured by Virgil Jackson," Heitlzer said. "He was beat in the head with a phone book and by hand by Virgil Jackson...He was hit twice in the side under his armpit with a stun gun."

Neither Jordan nor the Jeffreys ever registered official complaints against Jackson with the Department of Insurance.

When Bob Behnen ran for a Senate seat in 2006, his opponent, Wes Shoemyer, aired attack ads that criticized him for his involvement in passing the law that included the Lee Clause. Shoemyer won the election even though he too had voted in favor of the bill as a member of the House.

"Push comes to shove, Wes voted for the bill," says Kathy Armstrong, a member of Shoemyer's legislative staff. "But Wes went after him on it, and that's why he's filed bills to do away with it, because it's not right. Really, truly, the last place you want to have a felon working is in the bail bond industry."

In December 2007, Shoemyer introduced a bill that would have repealed the Lee Clause. After it was moved to committee, however, he amended the language of the law to retain the fifteen-year provision.

"The [bail bond] association came and talked to the senator and they had some changes that they wanted to do, and so Wes said, 'OK, if the association wants them,'" Armstrong explains. "He presented a senate committee substitute that kept the fifteen-year provision, but then he kind of sort of changed his mind and wants to go back to the basic bill."

Campaign finance reports from the Missouri Ethics Commission show that leading up to the 2006 election, Shoemyer received $1,400 in contributions from Allison and Allison's wife, Deborah. Allison says he and Shoemyer are "friends."

"Jack Allison is a constituent and they like Wes, and he happens to be a bail bondsman," says Armstrong. "And even in spite of the campaign contributions he received from the Allison family, he still moved forward with a bill that would've not allowed Virgil Jackson to have a license."

"It's going to stay the same," says Allison, who currently holds the title of legislative coordinator with the MPBBA.

That stance has created a rift between bondsmen who support the association and those who oppose felons in the industry.

"They pretty much only represent themselves at this point," says Angela Park, a bail bond industry blogger. "I can see why other people might be hesitant to join. It kind of leaves a bad taste in your mouth that Jackson was in the leadership and that he paid a bunch of lobbyists and state reps off and tried to murder his competitor."

That, however, hasn't stopped the MPBBA from continuing to lobby the state legislature with new proposals. In February, Sen. Maida Coleman, a St. Louis Democrat, introduced Senate Bill 1247 that would take oversight of the bail industry away from the Department of Insurance and place it in the hands of a "professional bail bond board."

The board would become responsible for all licensing, registration, discipline and rule-making for the state's bondsmen and bounty hunters. Though it does contain a provision requiring bondsmen to notify the proposed board within ten days of pleading guilty to a felony, it nonetheless retains the language of the Lee Clause.

According to the Missouri Ethics Commission, Coleman in 2006 received $800 in contributions from Allison, Carroll and the MPBBA. Last month, Representative Will Kraus of Kirksville sponsored nearly identical legislation. Neither Coleman's nor Kraus' offices returned calls seeking comment.

On her Web site, Park decries the proposals as a "bail bond power grab" by the MPBBA and writes that, "The association would like to pass legislation that will feed revenues to the association and require its continued existence."

Allison counters by saying that he and the other members of their organization are simply attempting to do what they feel is right. According to Allison, that means giving felons a chance to become bondsmen.

"As long as it wasn't a murder or something like that you shouldn't have to keep paying for your crime for longer than fifteen years," Allison says.

Ironically, one of biggest proponents of preserving the Lee Clause is none other than Jerry Cox. In July 2004 Cox's son Jim pleaded guilty and served a year in jail following a conviction of felony conspiracy. As a Florissant police officer, he twice planted drugs and other evidence on a woman who was going through a divorce with one of his associates. The hope was that the ensuing conviction would sway the judge to award custody of the couple's kids to Jim's acquaintance. He was paid $2,600 for the deed.

Jim Cox is currently part-owner and director of operations at Cox Bail Bonds. Jerry Cox, who recently survived a bout with cancer, says he eventually wants his son to become a licensed bondsman and take over the business — something, of course, that would be impossible if the Lee Clause were repealed.

"Eventually the business is his," the elder Cox says. "In hindsight, now that [the Lee Clause] is there, I say leave it alone. Because if somebody has been clean and has been an upright person for fifteen years — truly has — why keep kicking 'em?"