OPINION:
Alina Sheykhet’s 2017 murder was the first real cashless bail failure, and it was intentionally hidden from the public to protect a political agenda.
Before Iryna Zarutska’s murder in August made national headlines, there was Alina Sheykhet, a 20-year-old college student brutally murdered in Pittsburgh on Oct. 8, 2017. Her killer, Matthew Darby, had a pending rape case in another Pennsylvania county when he broke into her off-campus apartment. He should have been held on a meaningful bond. Instead, he walked free under a new “reform” regime that quietly dismantled traditional bail.
Alina’s murder was the first real cashless bail failure. Instead of acknowledging it, Allegheny County Pretrial Services, a branch of the criminal courts, buried it. When her family held a press conference, the attorney they hired, a close friend of my superiors, shifted blame away from the county’s bail practices. He pointed fingers at the police and the Protection from Abuse system but never mentioned that Darby had been released on a virtually meaningless bond.
It was a calculated decision to protect the political narrative driving “catch and release” policies in Pittsburgh’s courts. Afterward, my deputy director called the attorney to thank him for not mentioning our office.
I know this because I worked the case. At the time, I was an investigator inside Pittsburgh’s bail system. Magistrates weren’t merely “encouraged” to follow cashless bond recommendations; they were ordered to adopt our office’s nonmonetary release recommendations in their entirety or risk removal from the bench. If a magistrate dared set a bond, it was deliberately kept low to avoid scrutiny.
Behind the scenes, our office would reverse magistrates’ decisions without their knowledge. A judge could believe they had done the right thing to protect the public, only to have us nullify it hours later and send the defendant back onto the streets.
Halfway through my 14-year career, Pittsburgh abandoned common sense for “reform,” and the driving force wasn’t justice; it was money. Massive federal and private grants were poured into agencies willing to play along. Millions were handed out under the banner of “innovation,” and Allegheny County Pretrial Services treated it like a personal cash pipeline. Human lives were collateral damage.
By 2016, Pittsburgh had fully embraced cashless bonds. Bail amounts were reduced to symbolic numbers, bail bondsmen were cut out entirely, and dangerous defendants were released without paying a dime. Those of us inside the system who objected were silenced. Alina’s murder was the predictable result, but officials chose narrative over truth.
Over the next five years, magistrates privately acknowledged they were terrified of losing their positions if they deviated from recommendations. Colleagues justified their silence with the same refrain: “We’re just following orders.” Violent offenders learned the system had no teeth. They exploited it, and the public paid the price.
I became a whistleblower when I saw these same policies spreading nationwide. Cashless bonds were no longer a local experiment; they were becoming the national standard. I filed reports with the Department of Justice and the FBI and sent two letters to President Trump explaining how these policies worked, how officials intimidated judges and how the revolving door endangered communities. I named names, traced the money and laid out the consequences.
On Aug. 25, Attorney General Pam Bondi stood beside Mr. Trump in the Oval Office and told the story of a dangerous offender released on a cashless bond who was rearrested within hours. When she finished speaking, Mr. Trump signed an executive order to end cashless bonds nationwide. I was at home watching Fox News when I heard the president use the phrase “cashless bonds” for the first time. The issue had finally reached the highest levels of power.
Just three days earlier, on Aug. 22, Iryna Zarutska had been brutally murdered by an offender released on a cashless bond. The story was buried for four days — hidden by the media. Only after conservative outlets picked it up did the details explode into the national conversation. The executive order was signed one day before the world even knew Iryna’s name.
Iryna’s murder forced the issue into the open. Politicians, law enforcement and the media echoed what some of us inside the system had been saying for years: These policies were putting lives at risk. Just as the conversation began to turn, the assassination of Charlie Kirk shifted America’s focus overnight, stalling critical momentum.
I’m determined to reignite it. Cashless bond policies remove meaningful consequences, intimidate judges and silence those who know better. I witnessed it firsthand. I have tried to stop it, and I will keep speaking until the system stops pretending these tragedies are unavoidable.
Alina Sheykhet’s murder was not a footnote. It was the beginning.
• Kelly Rae Robertson is a nationally published writer and whistleblower who spent nearly 15 years in Pittsburgh’s justice system. Follow her on X @KellyRaeReports.
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