《No Country for Old Men》第33章

he　didnt　bother　to　take　a　picture。　there　was　no　one　watching。　he　looked　out　downriver at　the　slow　green　water。　he　walked　a　dozen　steps　and　came　back。　he　stepped　into　the roadway　and　crossed　to　the　other　side。　a　truck　passed。　a　light　tremor　in　the superstructure。　he　went　on　along　the　walkway　and　then　he　stopped。　faint　outline　of　a bootprint　in　blood。　fainter　of　another。　he　studied　the　chain…link　fence　to　see　if　there might　be　blood　on　the　wire。　he　took　his　handkerchief　from　his　pocket　and　wet　it　with his　tongue　and　passed　it　among　the　diamonds。　he　stood　looking　down　at　the　river。　a road　down　there　along　the　american　side。　between　the　road　and　the　river　a　thick　stand of　carrizo　cane。　the　cane　lashed　softly　in　the　wind　off　the　river。　if　hed　carried　the money　into　mexico　it　was　gone。　but　he　hadnt。
wells　stood　back　and　looked　at　the　bootprints　again。　some　mexicans　were　ing along　the　bridge　with　their　baskets　and　dayparcels。　he　took　out　his　camera　and　snapped a　picture　of　the　sky；　the　river；　the　world。
bell　sat　at　the　desk　signing　checks　and　totting　up　figures　on　a　hand　calculator。　when　he was　done　he　leaned　back　in　his　chair　and　looked　out　the　window　at　the　bleak　courthouse lawn。　molly；　he　said。
she　came　and　stood　in　the　door。
did　you　find　anything　on　any　of　those　vehicles　yet？
sheriff　i　found　out　everything　there　was　to　find。　those　vehicles　are　titled　and　registered to　deceased　people。　the　owner　of　that　blazer　died　twenty　years　ago。　did　you　want　me to　see　what　i　could　find　out　about　the　mexican　ones？
no。　lord　no。　heres　your　checks。
she　came　in　and　took　the　big　leatherette　checkbook　off　his　desk　and　put　it　under　her　arm。
that　dea　agent　called　again。　you　dont　want　to　talk　to　him？
im　goin　to　try　and　keep　from　it　as　much　as　i　can。
he　said　hes　goin　back　out　there　and　he　wanted　to　know　if　you　wanted　to　go　with　him。
well　thats　cordial　of　him。　i　guess　he　can　go　wherever　he　wants。　hes　a　certified　agent　of the　united　states　government。
he　wanted　to　know　what　you　were　goin　to　do　with　the　vehicles。
yeah。　ive　got　to　try　and　sell　them　things　at　auction。　more　county　money　down　the　toilet。
one　of　em　has　got　a　hot　engine　in　it。　we　might　be　able　to　get　a　few　dollars　for　that。　no word　from　mrs　moss？
no　sir。
all　right。
he　looked　at　the　clock　on　the　outer　office　wall。　i　wonder　if　i　could　get　you　to　call loretta　and　tell　her　ive　gone　to　eagle　pass　and　ill　call　her　from　down　there。　id　call　her but　shell　want　me　to　e　home　and　i　just　might。
you　want　me　to　wait　till　youve　quit　the　buildin？
yes　i　do。
he　pushed　the　chair　back　and　rose　and　got　down　his　gun…belt　from　the　coatrack　behind his　desk　and　hung　it　over　his　shoulder　and　picked　up　his　hat　and　put　it　on。　what　is　it　that torbert　says？　about　truth　and　justice？
we　dedicate　ourselves　anew　daily。　somethin　like　that。
i　think　im　goin　to　mence　dedicatin　myself　twice　daily。　it　may　e　to　three　fore　its over。　ill　see　you　in　the　mornin。
he　stopped　at　the　cafe　and　got　a　coffee　to　go　and　walked　out　to　the　cruiser　as　the　flatbed was　ing　up　the　street。　powdered　over　with　the　gray　desert　dust。　he　stopped　and watched　it　and　then　got　in　the　cruiser　and　wheeled　around　and　drove　past　the　truck　and pulled　it　over。　when　he　got　out　and　walked　back　the　driver　was　sitting　at　the　wheel chewing　gum　and　watching　him　with　a　sort　of　goodnatured　arrogance。
bell　put　one　hand　on　the　cab　and　looked　in　at　the　driver。　the　driver　nodded。　sheriff；　he said。
have　you　looked　at　your　load　lately？
the　driver　looked　in　the　mirror。　whats　the　problem；　sheriff？
bell　stepped　back　from　the　truck。　step　out　here；　he　said。
the　man　opened　the　door　and　got　out。　bell　nodded　toward　the　bed　of　the　truck。　thats　a damned　outrage；　he　said。
the　man　walked　back　and　took　a　look。　one　of　the　tiedowns　is　worked　loose；　he　said。
he　got　hold　of　the　loose　corner　of　the　tarp　and　pulled　it　back　up　along　the　bed　of　the truck　over　the　bodies　lying　there；　each　wrapped　in　blue　reinforced　plastic　sheeting　and bound　with　tape。　there　were　eight　of　them　and　they　looked　like　just　that。　dead　bodies wrapped　and　taped。
how　many　did　you　leave　with？　bell　said。
i　aint　lost　none　of　em；　sheriff。
couldnt　you　all　of　took　a　van　out　there？
we　didnt　have　no　van　with　four　wheel　drive。
he　tied　down　the　corner　of　the　tarp　and　stood。
all　right；　bell　said。
you　aint　goin　to　write　me　up　for　improperly　secured　load？
you　get　your　ass　out　of　here。
he　reached　the　devils　river　bridge　at　sundown　and　half　way　across　he　pulled　the cruiser　to　a　halt　and　turned　on　the　rooflights　and　got　out　and　shut　the　door　and　walked around　in　front　of　the　vehicle　and　stood　leaning　on　the　aluminum　pipe　that　served　for the　top　guardrail。　watching　the　sun　set　into　the　blue　reservoir　beyond　the　railroad　bridge to　the　west。　a　westbound　semi　ing　around　the　long　curve　of　the　span　downshifted when　the　lights　came　into　view。　the　driver　leaned　from　the　window　as　he　passed。　dont jump；　sheriff。　she　aint　worth　it。　then　he　was　gone　in　a　long　suck　of　wind；　the　diesel engine　winding　up　and　the　driver　double　clutching　and　shifting　gears。　bell　smiled。　truth of　the　matter　is；　he　said；　she　is。
some　two　miles　past　the　junction　of　481　and　57　the　boitting　in　the　passenger　seat gave　off　a　single　bleep　and　went　silent　again。　chigurh　pulled　onto　the　shoulder　and stopped。　he　picked　up　the　box　and　turned　it　and　turned　it　back。　he　adjusted　the　knobs。
nothing。　he　pulled　out　onto　the　highway　again。　the　sun　pooled　in　the　low　blue　hills before　him。　bleeding　slowly　away。　a　cool　and　shadowed　twilight　falling　over　the　desert。
he　took　off　his　sunglasses　and　put　them　in　the　glovebox　and　closed　the　glovebox　door and　turned　on　the　headlights。　as　he　did　so　the　box　began　to　beep　with　a　slow　measured time。
he　parked　behind　the　hotel　and　got　out　and　came　limping　around　the　truck　with　the　box and　the　shotgun　and　the　pistol　all　in　a　zipper　bag　and　crossed　the　parking　lot　and climbed　the　hotel　steps。
he　registered　and　got　the　key　and　hobbled　up　the　steps　and　down　the　hall　to　his　room and　went　in　and　locked　the　door　and　lay　on　the　bed　with　the　shotgun　across　his　chest staring　at　the　ceiling。　he