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he pulled up in front of the sheriffs office in eagle pass at nine…fifteen in the morning and he and the sheriff sat in the office and drank coffee and looked at the photos taken in the street two blocks away three hours earlier。
theres days im in favor of givin the whole damn place back to em； the sheriff said。
i hear you； said bell。
dead bodies in the street。 citizens businesses all shot up。 peoples cars。 whoever heard of such a thing？
can we go over and take a look？
yeah。 we can go over。
the street was still roped off but there wasnt much to see。 the front of the eagle hotel was all shot up and there was broken glass in the sidewalk down both sides of the street。
tires and glass shot out of the cars and holes in the sheet…metal with the little rings of bare steel around them。 the cadillac had been towed off and the glass in the street swept up and the blood hosed away。
who was it in the hotel do you reckon？
some mexican dopedealer。
the sheriff stood smoking。 bell walked off a ways down the street。 he stood。 he came back up the sidewalk； his boots grinding in the glass。 the sheriff flipped his cigarette into the street。 you go up adams there about a half a block youll see a blood trail。
goin yon way； i reckon。
if he had any sense。 i think them boys in the car got caught in a crossfire。 it looks to me like they was shootin towards the hotel and up the street yonder both。
what do you reckon their car was doin in the middle of the intersection thataway？
i got no idea； ed tom。
they walked up to the hotel。
what kind of shellcasins did you all pick up？
mostly nine millimeter with some shotgun hulls and a few 。380s。 we got a shotgun and two machineguns。
fully automatic？
sure。 why not？
why not。
they walked up the stairs。 the porch of the hotel was covered in glass and the woodwork shot up。
the nightclerk got killed。 about as bad a piece of luck as you could have； i reckon。
caught a stray round。
whered he catch it？
right between the eyes。
they walked into the lobby and stood。 somebody had thrown a couple of towels over the blood in the carpet behind the desk but the blood had soaked through the towels。 he wasnt shot； bell said。
who wasnt shot。
the nightclerk。
he wasnt shot？
no sir。
what makes you say that？
you get the lab report and youll see。
what are you sayin ed tom？ that they drilled his brains out with a black and decker？
thats pretty close。 ill let you think about it。
driving back to sanderson it began to snow。 he went to the courthouse and did some paperwork and left just before dark。 when he pulled up in the driveway behind the house his wife was looking out from the kitchen window。 she smiled at him。 the falling snow drifted and turned in the warm yellow light。
they sat in the little diningroom and ate。 shed put on music； a violin concerto。 the phone didnt ring。
did you take it off the hook？
no； she said。
wires must be down。
she smiled。 i think its just the snow。 i think it makes people stop and think。
bell nodded。 i hope it es a blizzard then。
do you remember the last time it snowed here？
no； i cant say as i do。 do you？
yes i do。
when was it。
itll e to you。
oh。
she smiled。 they ate。
thats nice； bell said。
what is？
the music。 supper。 bein home。
do you think she was tellin the truth？
i do。 yes。
do you think that boy is still alive？
i dont know。 i hope he is。
you may never hear another word about any of this。
its possible。 that wouldnt be the end of it though； would it？
no； i guess it wouldnt。
you cant count on em to kill one another off like this on a regular basis。 but i expect some cartel will take it over sooner or later and theyll wind up just dealin with the mexican government。 theres too much money in it。 theyll freeze out these country boys。 it wont be long； neither。
how much money do you think he has？
the moss boy？
yes。
hard to say。 could be in the millions。 well； not too many millions。 he carried it out of there on foot。
did you want some coffee？
yes i would。
she rose and went to the sideboard and unplugged the percolator and brought it to the table and poured his cup and sat down again。 just dont e home dead some evenin； she said。 i wont put up with it。
i better not do it then。
do you think hell send for her？
bell stirred his coffee。 he sat holding the steaming spoon above the cup； then he laid it in the saucer。 i dont know； he said。 i know hed be a damn fool if he didnt。
the office was on the seventeenth floor with a view over the skyline of houston and the open lowlands to the ship channel and the bayou beyond。 colonies of silver tanks。 gas flares； pale in the day。 when wells showed up the man told him to e in and told him to shut the door。 he didnt even turn around。 he could see wells in the glass。 wells shut the door and stood with his hands crossed before him at the wrist。 the way a funeral director might stand。
the man finally turned and looked at him。 you know anton chigurh by sight； is that correct？
yessir； thats correct。
when did you last see him？
november twenty…eighth of last year。
how do you happen to remember the date？
i dont happen to remember it。 i remember dates。 numbers。
the man nodded。 he was standing behind his desk。 the desk was of polished stainless steel and walnut and there wasnt anything on it。 not a picture or a piece of paper。
nothing。
we got a loose cannon here。 and were missing product and were out a bunch of money。
yessir。 i understand that。
you understand that。
yessir。
thats good。 im glad ive got your attention。
yessir。 you have my attention。
the man unlocked a drawer in the desk and took out a steel box and unlocked that and took out a card and closed the box and locked it and put it away again。 he held up the card between two fingers and looked at wells and wells stepped forward and took it。
you pay your own expenses if i remember correctly。
yessir。
this account will only give up twelve hundred dollars in any twenty…four hour period。
thats up from a thousand。
yessir。
how well do you