Eighty-six

By ten a.m. the Silver Ghost was back on the highway and, by noon, it was swerving its way through the rip-roaring traffic of Marrakech.

All around, there were mopeds veering to and fro in all directions, like a game of 3D Space Invaders. There were donkey carts, too, and throngs of bicycles, and watersellers ringing their great brass bells, and beggars weaving through the traffic in their wheelchairs.

‘Which way?’ asked Blaine at a crossroads.

‘That way, straight – towards the great minaret of Koutoubia.’

‘That’s Koutoubia? Fantastic! That’s where I’ve gotta pick up the trail for the next postcard.’

Ghita was about to rein the American in, but she cautioned herself. As he had reminded her – she needed him more than he needed her.

‘We’ll go there first,’ she said, ‘to get your postcard, and then we’ll go and find the goldsmith.’

Blaine eased the car to a halt.

‘Just park up there on the pavement,’ Ghita said.

‘But I’ll get towed.’

‘This is Marrakech, not Miami,’ she replied. ‘The police can be reminded that they are on our side.’

‘So I’ve noticed,’ said Blaine.

Mounting the kerb, he steered the Silver Ghost up to within a few feet of the mosque wall.

‘Koutoubia means “Booksellers”,’ said Ghita, ‘because there used to be bookstalls here.’

‘When was that?’

‘About a thousand years ago.’

Blaine wasn’t listening. His mind was on the postcard. He pulled it out and did his best to decipher the text on the back.

‘It says to ask at the “Old Lady”.’ He turned around and peered up at the great square minaret. ‘This must be the Old Lady,’ he said, ‘but who to ask?’

Ghita frowned. She took the card from Blaine.

‘This was clearly written by a man in love,’ she replied. ‘I can always tell.’

‘Tell what?’

‘When a man is in love.’

‘Huh?’

‘You men are so poor at concealing your feelings.’

‘So, who was Bogart in love with?’

‘With the Old Lady, of course.’

Blaine nodded towards the mosque.

‘That Old Lady?’

‘Would a drunk American actor really have been in love with a mosque?’ said Ghita.

‘I guess not.’

‘So, where’s the Old Lady we need?’

‘La Grande Dame, The Mamounia, of course.’