There was smoke in the alley I jogged down, following the drops of blood. At one point I thought I’d lost the trail - it seemed as if it had completely vanished. But standing still, thinking of what to do next, I spotted a splatter of blood along one wall. It was enough.

In the alleyways I traveled, I could hear the muffled sounds of commotion - the raised, excited voices of people, the nervous calls of goats or sheep, and clanging of metal objects. But I kept moving down, around, and what fe...