Few people walked the streets. Those that did seemed to be paying no attention to the surroundings using the street merely as a means of getting somewhere. Three ladies bunched together at a bus stop, a cop walked the beat swinging his billy club, and a derelict wrapped in an old army blanket huddled in the entrance of a vacant building drinking wine from a paper bag.
Sean shuddered to think that his father presided over this part of the city; this was the low-visibility Washington that wasn’t highlighted in Frommer’s, or any other tourist guidebook. But he wasn’t a social worker or on a goodwill tour so he abruptly dismissed the thought.
From out of nowhere two teen-age blacks raced down the sidewalk, brushing against him in their haste, almost knocking him over. He turned to see them d
