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bell shook his head。 i dont know； he said。 i guess id have to say it would be a while。
i guess it would too； she said。 a long while。
hed knocked on other doors with the same sort of message； it wasnt all that new to him。
he saw the window curtain move slightly and then the door opened and she stood there in jeans with her shirttail out looking at him。 no expression。 just waiting。 he took off his hat and she leaned against the doorjamb and turned her face away。
im sorry； mam； he said。
oh god； she said。 she staggered back into the room and slumped to the floor and buried her face in her forearms with her hands over her head。 bell stood there holding his hat。
he didnt know what to do。 he couldnt see any sign of the grandmother。 two spanish maids were standing in the parking lot watching and whispering to each other。 he stepped into the room and closed the door。
carla jean； he said。
oh god； she said。
im just as sorry as i can be。
oh god。
he stood there； his hat in his hand。 im sorry； he said。
she raised her head and looked at him。 her crumpled face。 damn you； she said。 you stand there and tell me youre sorry？ my husband is dead。 do you understand that？ you say youre sorry one more time and by god if i wont get my gun and shoot you。
。。
No Country for Old MenIX
；
i had to take her at her word。 not a lot else you could do。 i never saw her again。 i wanted to tell her that the way they had it in the papers wasnt right。 about him and that girl。 it turned out she was a runaway。 fifteen years old。 i dont believe that he had anything to do with her and i hate it that she thought that。 which you know she did。 i called her a number of times but shed hang up on me and i cant blame her。 then when they called me from odessa and told me what had happened i couldnt hardly believe it。
it didnt make no sense。 i drove up there but there wasnt nothin to be done。 her grandmother had just died too。 i tried to see if i could get his fingerprints off the fbi database but they just drew a blank。 wanted to know what his name was and what hed done and all such as that。 you end up lookin like a fool。 hes a ghost。 but hes out there。
you wouldnt think it would be possible to just e and go thataway。 i keep waitin to hear somethin else。 maybe i will yet。 or maybe not。 its easy to fool yourself。 tell yourself what you want to hear。 you wake up in the night and you think about things。 i aint sure anymore what it is i do want to hear。 you tell yourself that maybe this business is over。 but you know it aint。 you can wish all you want。
my daddy always told me to just do the best you knew how and tell the truth。 he said there was nothin to set a mans mind at ease like wakin up in the morning and not havin to decide who you were。 and if you done somethin wrong just stand up and say you done it and say youre sorry and get on with it。 dont haul stuff around with you。 i guess all that sounds pretty simple today。 even to me。 all the more reason to think about it。
he didnt say a lot so i tend to remember what he did say。 and i dont remember that he had a lot of patience with havin to say things twice so i learned to listen the first time。 i might of strayed from all of that some as a younger man but when i got back on that road i pretty much decided not to quit it again and i didnt。 i think the truth is always simple。 it has pretty much got to be。 it needs to be simple enough for a child to understand。 otherwise itd be too late。 by the time you figured it out it would be too late。
chigurh stood at the receptionists desk dressed in suit and tie。 he set the case in the floor at his feet and looked around the office。
how do you spell that？ she said。
he told her。
is he expecting you？
no。 hes not。 but hes going to be glad to see me。
just a minute。
she buzzed the inner office。 there was a silence。 then she hung the phone up。 go right in； she said。
he opened the door and walked in and a man at the desk stood up and looked at him。 he came around the desk and held out his hand。 i know that name； he said。
they sat on a sofa in the corner of the office and chigurh set the case on the coffeetable and nodded at it。 thats yours； he said。
what is it？
its some money that belongs to you。
the man sat looking at the case。 then he got up and went over to the desk and leaned and pushed a button。 hold my calls； he said。
he turned and put his hands on either side of the desk behind him and leaned back and studied chigurh。 how did you find me？ he said。
what difference does it make？
it makes a difference to me。
you dont have to worry。 nobody else is ing。
how do you know？
because im in charge of who is ing and who is not。 i think we need to address the issue here。 i dont want to spend a lot of time trying to put your mind at ease。 i think it would be both hopeless and thankless。 so lets talk about money。
all right。
some of it is missing。 about a hundred thousand dollars。 part of that was stolen and part of it went to cover my expenses。 ive been at some pains to recover your property so id prefer not to be addressed as some sort of bearer of bad news here。 there is two point three mil in that case。 im sorry i couldnt recover it all； but there you are。
the man hadnt moved。 after a while he said： who the hell are you？
my name is anton chigurh。
i know that。
then why did you ask？
what do you want。 i guess thats my question。
well。 id say that the purpose of my visit is simply to establish my bonafides。 as someone who is an expert in a difficult field。 as someone who is pletely reliable and pletely honest。 something like that。
someone i might do business with。
yes。
youre serious。
pletely。
chigurh watched him。 he watched the dilation in his eyes and the pulse in the artery of his neck。 the rate of his breathing。 when hed first put his hands on the desk behind him he had looked somewhat relaxed。 he was still standing in the identical attitude but he didnt look that way anymore。
theres not a bomb in that damn bag is there？
no。 no bombs。
chigurh undid the straps and unlatched the brass hasp and opened t