I dropped Blood off at his Sherman Street address. The house looked like your garden variety c***k den on the outside, with an industrial hollow metal front door secured with three deadbolts. But on the inside, the place was a palace equipped with the best HD televisions and digital stereo sound systems you could think of. After having spent nearly a decade in prison for a crime he’d do again, at his own admission (he nearly beat to death a man who’d date r***d a young woman), Blood really enjoyed the niceties in life. And those niceties included outfitting his crib with the best stuff money could buy.
I, on the other hand, didn’t go much for big televisions or even stereo systems. I still had an old turntable, and on occasion, I spun some 1950s era Blue Note jazz. At one time, I would h
