Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [53]
Mary Ellen had a work ethic that was the closest I’ve ever seen to my own. She is relentless, especially when her money is at risk. We could be out on a hunt all day, sometimes working until 11:30 P.M. If I told Mary Ellen I needed to call it a night because I had to get up and drive my kids to school the next morning, she’d say, “Well then, we’ve got seven more hours to find him, don’t we! When we catch this SOB, we’ll all go home together and happy. You’ll be richer and I won’t be out my money.” Mary Ellen refused to quit until we got her man.
You have to have a mean streak to make it as a bail bondsman. We’re not teaching Sunday school, we’re dealing with criminals all day long. Mary Ellen’s heart was bigger than mine, but it was also meaner. I’d often hear about people she wrote bonds for that didn’t quite have all the money they needed to pay up front. She’d spot them the cash, but made it very, very clear she wasn’t going to be so understanding if they ran. She wasn’t going to let some thug lose his momma’s house she’d used as collateral to save her son. As a precaution, she made sure her clients checked in with her on a weekly basis. If she didn’t hear from them, there would be hell to pay.
Sometimes, when we brought a fugitive in to jail, I’d slip him a few bucks, only to have Mary Ellen yell at me for doing that.
“You didn’t give that jerk any money, did you?” she’d ask, knowing full well I had.
“Of course not,” I’d always say, only to find out the next day that she’d given him money too. Naturally, she usually denied it because she didn’t want me to think she was soft, even though I already knew she had a gentle heart. She might have fooled most of the other bondsmen, but I could see the real Mary Ellen through that rough-and-tumble exterior.
Mary Ellen taught me to treat all of the jumps with respect. She reminded me over and over that they weren’t running from us, they were running from the consequences of the decisions that got them to us in the first place. We had an obligation to the court to make sure they were brought to justice. We aren’t the judge or jury. I have always respected that advice and have never forgotten those words.
I wanted to help Mary Ellen succeed, especially because so many of the Denver bondsman were determined to watch her fail. Whenever I’d tell her I’d heard someone say it was only a matter of time before she was out of the business, Mary Ellen would respond with something like “Those sons of bitches are going to be waiting until hell freezes over before I give up!” I loved her determination, and I still admire it today.
It wasn’t long before we began doing a lot of work together. Over the years she used me on hundreds of bail jumps and almost exclusively for her most dangerous criminals. She wrote every bond that rang in on the phone because she had me in her pocket. She’d write the bond and tell me, “This guy will jump so be ready to get him, Dog.”
She warned her clients she’d send the Dog after them if they ran. “He’ll beat you. You don’t think he does whatever I say? You don’t think Dog will kick your ass if I tell him to? If I send my Dog after you, he’s going to rip your head off, I promise. I’m coming to your house and there won’t be any white flag, pal, got it?” She loved using me as a threat so her clients wouldn’t jump. I loved how cold-blooded Mary Ellen could be. Her cutthroat attitude helped build her business into one of the biggest and most profitable, eventually making her the Queen of Bail in Denver.
There aren’t a lot of women who can push my Beth around and live to tell their tale. Mary Ellen once shoved Beth, and I thought Beth was going to kill her. Beth turned around to respond, but Mary Ellen was already in her face screaming, “You want a piece of me, little girl? Little bitch!” Beth backed down and did nothing. Oh, she and Mary Ellen still