CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Downstairs there was nobody around. He turned the doorknob and slipped out into the narrow, cobbled, practically deserted alley. He walked to the end and turned left, away from the main square, from the tourist spots.
Soon the stalls changed. Little supermarkets, an Internet cafe, a welding store, a place to get donkey carts repaired replaced the ceramic souvenirs and Marrakech T-shirt stalls.
Justin came to another junction. Overhead, hung between two opposing buildings was a large orange sign. He paused and took a look around to take his bearings for the return journey. Then continued deeper into the labyrinth of narrow streets.
A little further on he spotted what he was searching for. Local youths loitering, two guys standing at the entrance of a dirty old alley look
