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Chigurh nodded. Let's go, he said.
They parked some distance from the trucks and walked down to look at them. Chigurh stood there a long time. It was cold out on the barrial and he had no jacket but he didnt seem to notice. The other two men stood waiting. He had a flashlight in his hand and he turned it on and walked among the trucks and looked at the bodies. The two men followed at a small distance.
Whose dog? Chigurh said.
We dont know.
He stood looking in at the dead man slumped across the console of the Bronco. He shone the light into the cargo space behind the seats.
Where's the box? he said.
It's in the truck. You want it?
Can you get anything on it?
No.
Nothing?
Not a bleep.
Chigurh studied the dead man. He jostled him with his flashlight.
These are some ripe petunias, one of the men said.
Chigurh didnt answer. He backed out of the truck and stood looking over the bajada in the moonlight. Dead quiet. The man in the Bronco had not been dead three days or anything like it. He pulled the pistol from the waistband of his trousers and turned around to where the two men were standing and shot them once each through the head in rapid succession and put the gun back in his belt. The second man had actually half turned to look at the first as he fell. Chigurh stepped between them and bent and pulled away the shoulder-strap from the second man and swung up the nine millimeter Glock he'd been carrying and walked back out to the vehicle and got in and started it and backed around and drove up out of the caldera and back toward the highway.
III
I dont know that law enforcement benefits all that much from new technology. Tools that comes into our hands comes into theirs too. Not that you can go back. Or that you'd even want to. We used to have them old Motorola two way radios. We've had the high-band now for several years. Some things aint changed. Common sense aint changed. I'll tell my deputies sometimes to just follow the breadcrumbs. I still like the old Colts..44-40. If that wont stop him you'd better throw the thing down and take off ru
This other thing I dont know. People will ask me about it ever so often. I cant say as I would rule it out altogether. It aint somethin I would like to have to see again. To witness. The ones that really ought to be on death row will never make it. I believe that. You remember certain things about a thing like that. People didnt know what to wear. There was one or two come dressed in black, which I suppose was all right. Some of the men come just in their shirtsleeves and that kindly bothered me. I aint sure I could tell you why.
Still they seemed to know what to do and that surprised me. Most of em I know had never been to a execution before. When it was over they pulled this curtain around the gas-chamber with him in there settin slumped over and people just got up and filed out. Like out of church or somethin. It just seemed peculiar. Well it was peculiar. I'd have to say it was probably the most unusual day I ever spent.
Quite a few people didnt believe in it. Even them that worked on the row. You'd be surprised. Some of em I think had at one time. You see somebody ever day sometimes for years and then one day you walk that man down the hallway and put him to death. Well. That'll take some of the cackle out of just about anybody. I dont care who it is. And of course some of them boys was not very bright. Chaplain Pickett told me about one he ministered to and he ate his last meal and he'd ordered this dessert, ever what it was. And it come time to go and Pickett he asked him didnt he want his dessert and the old boy told him he was savin it for when he come back. I dont know what to say about that. Pickett didnt neither.
I never had to kill nobody and I am very glad of that fact. Some of the old time sheriffs wouldnt even carry a firearm. A lot of folks find that hard to believe but it's a fact. Jim Scarborough never carried one. That's the younger Jim. Gaston Boykins wouldnt wear one. Up in Comanche County. I always liked to hear about the old timers. Never missed a chance to do so. The old time concern that the sheriffs had for their people is been watered down some. You cant help but feel it. Nigger Hoskins over in Bastrop County knowed everbody's phone number in the whole county by heart.
It's a odd thing when you come to think about it. The opportunities for abuse are just about everwhere. There's no requirements in the Texas State Constitution for bein a sheriff. Not a one. There is no such thing as a county law. You think about a job where you have pretty much the same authority as God and there is no requirements put upon you and you are charged with preservin nonexistent laws and you tell me if that's peculiar or not. Because I say that it is. Does it work? Yes. Ninety percent of the time. It takes very little to govern good people. Very little. And bad people cant be governed at all. Or if they could I never heard of it.
The bus pulled into Fort Stockton at quarter to nine and Moss stood and got his bag down from the overhead rack and picked up the document case out of the seat and stood looking down at her.
Dont get on a airplane with that thing, she said. They'll put you under the jail.
My mama didnt raise no ignorant children.
When are you goin to call me.
I'll call you in a few days.
All right.
You take care.
I got a bad feelin, Llewelyn.
Well, I got a good one. So they ought to balance out.
I hope so.
I cant call you except from a payphone.
I know it. Call me.
I will. Quit worryin about everthing.
Llewelyn?
What.
Nothin.
What is it.
Nothin. I just wanted to say it. You take care. Llewelyn? What.
Dont hurt nobody. You hear?
He stood there with the bag slung across his shoulder. I aint makin no promises, he said. That's how you get hurt.
Bell had raised the first forkful of his supper to his mouth when the phone rang. He lowered it again. She'd started to push her chair back but he wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose. I'll get it, he said.
All right.
How the hell do they know when you're eatin? We never eat this late.
Dont be cussin, she said.
He picked up the phone. Sheriff Bell, he said.
He listened for a while. Then he said: I'm goin to finish my supper. I'll meet you there in about forty minutes. Just leave the lights on on your unit.
He hung up the phone and came back to his chair and sat and picked up the napkin and put it in his lap and picked up his fork. Somebody called in a car afire, he said. Just this side of Lozier Canyon.
What do you make of that?
He shook his head.
He ate. He drank the last of his coffee. Come go with me, he said.
Let me get my coat.
They pulled off the road at the gate and drove over the cattleguard and pulled up behind Wendell's unit. Wendell walked back and Bell rolled down the window.
It's about a half mile down, Wendell said. Just follow me.
I can see it.
Yessir. It was goin real good here about a hour ago. The people that called it in seen it from the road.
They parked a little way off and got out and stood looking at it. You could feel the heat on your face. Bell came around and opened the door and took his wife's hand. She got out and stood with her arms folded in front of her. There was a pickup truck parked a ways down and two men were standing there in the dull red glare. They nodded each in turn and said Sheriff.