ked like shed been asleep。 yessir； she said。 can i help you？
he left the office with the key in his shirtpocket and got into the ramcharger and drove around to the side of the building and parked and got out and walked down to the room carrying the bag with the receiver and the guns in it。 in the room he dropped the bag onto the bed and pulled off his boots and came back out with the receiver and the battery pack and the shotgun from the truck。 the shotgun was a twelve gauge remington automatic with a plastic military stock and a parkerized finish。 it was fitted with a shopmade silencer fully a foot long and big around as a beercan。 he walked down the ramada in his sockfeet past the rooms listening to the signal。
he came back to the room and stood in the open door under the dead white light from the parking lot lamp。 he walked into the bathroom and turned the light on there。 he took the measure of the room and looked to see where everything was。 he measured where the lightswitches were。 then he stood in the room taking it all in once again。 he sat and pulled on his boots and got the airtank and slung it across his shoulder and caught up the cattlegun where it swung from the rubber airhose and walked out and down to the room。
he stood listening at the door。 then he punched out the lock cylinder with the airgun and kicked open the door。
a mexican in a green guayabera had sat up on the bed and was reaching for a small machinegun beside him。 chigurh shot him three times so fast it sounded like one long gunshot and left most of the upper part of him spread across the headboard and the wall behind it。 the shotgun made a strange deep chugging sound。 like someone coughing into a barrel。 he snapped on the light and stepped out of the doorway and stood with his back to the outside wall。 he looked in again quickly。 the bathroom door had been shut。
now it was open。 he stepped into the room and fired two loads through the standing door and another through the wall and stepped out again。 down toward the end of the building a light had e on。 chigurh waited。 then he looked into the room once more。
the door was blown into shredded plywood hanging off the hinges and a thin stream of blood had started across the pink bathroom tiles。
he stepped into the doorway and fired two more rounds through the bathroom wall and then walked in with the shotgun leveled at his waist。 the man was lying slumped against the tub holding an ak…47。 he was shot in the chest and the neck and he was bleeding heavily。 no me mate； he wheezed。 no me mate。 chigurh stepped back to avoid the spray of ceramic chips off the tub and shot him in the face。
he walked out and stood on the sidewalk。 no one there。 he went back in and searched the room。 he looked in the closet and he looked under the bed and he pulled all the drawers out into the floor。 he looked in the bathroom。 mosss h&k machinepistol was lying on the sink。 he left it there。 he wiped his feet back and forth on the carpet to get the blood off the soles of his boots and he stood looking at the room。 then his eye fell on the airduct。
he took the lamp from beside the bed and jerked the cord free and climbed up onto the dresser and stove in the grate with the metal lampbase and pulled it loose and looked in。
he could see the dragmarks in the dust。 he climbed down and stood there。 hed got blood and matter on his shirt from off the wall and he took the shirt off and went back into the bathroom and washed himself and dried with one of the bath…towels。 then he wet the towel and wiped off his boots and folded the towel again and wiped down the legs of his jeans。 he picked up the shotgun and came back into the room naked to the waist； the shirt balled in one hand。 he wiped his bootsoles on the carpet again and looked around the room a last time and left。
when bell walked into the office torbert looked up from his desk and then rose and came over and laid a paper down in front of him。
is this it？ bell said。
yessir。
bell leaned back in his chair to read； tapping his lower lip slowly with his forefinger。
after a while he put the report down。 he didnt look at torbert。 i know whats happened here； he said。
all right。
have you ever been to a slaughterhouse？
yessir。 i believe so。
youd know it if you had。
i think i went once when i was a kid。
funny place to take a kid。
i think i went my own self。 snuck in。
how did they kill the beef？
they had a knocker straddled the chute and theyd let the beeves through one at a time and hed knock em in the head with a maul。 he done that all day。
that sounds about right。 they dont do it thataway no more。 they use a airpowered gun that shoots a steel bolt out of it。 just shoots it out about so far。 they put that thing between the beefs eyes and pull the trigger and down she goes。 its that quick。
torbert was standing at the corner of bells desk。 he waited a minute for the sheriff to continue but the sheriff didnt continue。 torbert stood there。 then he looked away。 i wish you hadnt of even told me； he said。
i know； said bell。 i knowed what youd say fore you said it。
moss pulled into eagle pass at a quarter till two in the morning。 hed slept a good part of the way in the back of the cab and he only woke when they slowed ing off the highway and down main street。 he watched the pale white globes of the streetlamps pass along the upper rim of the window。 then he sat up。
you goin across the river？ the driver said。
no。 just take me downtown。
you are downtown。
moss leaned forward with his elbows on the back of the seat。
whats that right there。
thats the maverick county courthouse。
no。 right there where the sign is。
thats the hotel eagle。
drop me there。
he paid the driver the fifty dollars theyd agreed on and picked up his bags off the curb and walked up the steps to the porch and went in。 the clerk was standing at the desk as if hed been expecting him。
he paid and put the key in his pocket and climbed the stairs and walked down the old hotel corridor。 dead quiet。 no lights in the transoms。 he found the room and put the key in the door and opened it and went in and shut the door behind him。 light from the streetlamps ing through the lace curtains at the window。 he set the bags on the bed and went back to the door and switched on the overhead light。 old fashioned pushbutton switchplate。 oak furniture from the turn of the century。 brown walls。 same chenille bedspread。
he sat on the bed thinking things over。 he got up and looked out the window at the parking lot and he went into the bathroom and got a glass of water and came back and sat on the bed again。 he took a sip and set the water on the glass top of the wooden bedside table。 there is no goddamn way； he said。
he undid the brass latch and the buckles on the case and began to take the packets of money out and to stack them on the bed。 when the case was empty he checked it for a false bottom and he checked the back and sides and then he set it aside and began to go through the stacks of bills； riffling each of the packets and stacking them back in the case。 hed packed it about a third full before he found the sending unit。
the middle of the packet had been filled in with dollar bills with the centers cut out and the transponder unit nested there was about the size of a zippo lighter。 he slid back the tape and took it out and weighed it in his hand。 then he put it in the drawer and got up and took the cut…out dollar bills and the banktape to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet and came back。 he folded the loose hundreds and put them in his pocket and then packed the rest of the banknotes into the case again and set the case in the chair and sat there looking at it。 he thought about a lot of things but the thing that stayed with him was that at some point he was going to have to quit running on luck。
he got the shotgun out of the bag and laid it on the bed and turned on the bedside lamp。
he went to the door and turned off the overhead light and came back and stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling。 he knew what was ing。 he just didnt know when。 he got up and went into the bathroom and pulled the chain on the light over the sink and looked at himself in the mirror。 he took a washcloth from the glass towelbar and turned on the hot water and wet the cloth and wrung it out and wiped his face and the back of his neck。 he took a leak and then switched off the light and went back and sat on the bed。 it had already occurred to him that he would probably never be safe again in his life and he wondered if that was something that you got used to。 and if you did？
he emptied out the bag and put the shotgun in and zipped it shut and took it together with the satchel down to the desk。 the mexican whod checked him in was gone and in his place was another clerk； thin and gray。 a thin white shirt and a black bow tie。 he was smoking a cigarette and reading ring magazine and he looked up at moss with no great enthusiasm； squinting in the smoke。 yessir； he said。
did you just e on？
yessir。 be here till ten in the mornin。
moss laid a hundred dollar bill on