“It would be on my conscience. I will have to think about that.” It didn’t take long. Father Mike stood, helping Condley to his feet. “All right. If we can wake your friend up, he will be easier to assist.”

Muir slowly awakened. Together they helped the professor to his feet. Condley strapped the knapsack containing Deville’s severed hand over his shoulder. Then the two men braced Muir between them and walked along the street, heading toward Father Mike’s mission house.

The small priest lectured Condley as they walked. “You must understand that I cannot allow you to stay inside my mission. There are careful lines that must be drawn here, Brandon. I can honor my vows by administering first aid to you, so I will dress your wounds. But then you must leave. If the police ask me to identify you, I will decline. I am comfortable with that. I am a priest, not an identifier of criminals. Not an agent for the police. Any police. But if I wish to remain morally and legally neutral, I cannot harbor you in my chapel either.”

“Fine,” said Condley through gritted teeth. “Then do you think God will allow you to call me a fucking cab?”

“It would be unfair to make a cab driver a potential aider and abettor of a crime,” said Father Mike judiciously. “Not to mention a witness to your escape.” He delicately dropped a key chain into Condley’s pocket. “If you’re strong enough to drive, Brandon, my best recommendation is that you should steal my car.”

“I’ll leave it at the Oriental pier,” said Brandon.

“No, take it back to your hotel.”

“I didn’t commit a crime, Father. Remember that if we don’t see each other again?”

“I believe you,” said Father Mike, allowing himself a small grin. “And I assume there won’t be a problem if I pick up my car tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll leave your key with the valet. And you don’t even need to worry about a tip.”

Inside the medical office of his mission, Father Mike carefully cleaned and dressed their wounds. Afterward, he went to a closet where he kept several boxes of clothes sent to the people of Klong Toey from parishioners in the United States, finding Condley a shirt and Hanson Muir a pair of baggy sweatpants. On the way out, he located an old cane and gave it to the professor, who was recovering nicely now that his leg was properly wrapped. And then he led them back outside.

Far down the road, the trucks were still lining up before the slaughter pens, and no police were yet in sight. They reached Father Mike’s Honda and he opened up the passenger-side door, helping Hanson Muir into the seat.