Zircon told him the little they knew. "We stopped by to see you, hoping you could shed some light on the kidnaping."
The priest shook his head. "I haven't the remotest idea. Their visit here was without incident, except for a robbery attempt. I don't even recall any conversation that might be helpful. We talked mostly about their research project."
"You mentioned a robbery?" Rick asked.
"Yes, the first night they were here. Thieves broke into the convento, but by good luck, some of my Christian parishioners who live next door were awake. They hurried to the rescue with guns, and the thieves fled before they found where we were sleeping. My people said they were Moros."
Zircon gestured at a group of Moros lounging in the shade of the wooden airport building. "You seem to have quite a few of them here."
Father Murray chuckled. "Indeed we do. This is a Moro province. Both the mayor and governor are Moros. Christians are few."
Rick noted the tight trousers and bolero-type vests that exposed muscular chests. Two of the Moros wore purple velvet caps. The others wore straw hats of intricately woven design that reminded him of helmets.
"Was a Moro guide with our friends?" Zircon asked.
"Yes. He seemed like a respectable young man. I saw little of him, however. He stayed with us, but kept to himself, probably bored with our talk. Did you know that Tony and I were classmates in high school?"
The three hadn't known it. No wonder Tony and Shannon had gone so far out of their way to visit Cotabato.