No country for old men - By Cormac McCarthy Page 0,71

the office.

How do you spell that? she said.

He told her.

Is he expecting you?

No. He’s not. But he’s 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. That’s yours, he said.

What is it?

It’s 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 coming.

How do you know?

Because I’m in charge of who is coming 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 let’s 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. I’ve been at some pains to recover your property so I’d prefer not to be addressed as some sort of bearer of bad news here. There is two point three mil in that case. I’m 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 that’s my question.

Well. I’d 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 completely reliable and completely honest. Something like that.

Someone I might do business with.

Yes.

You’re serious.

Completely.

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 he’d 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.

There’s not a bomb in that damn bag is there?

No. No bombs.

Chigurh undid the straps and unlatched the brass hasp and opened the leather flap and tipped the case forward.

Yes, the man said. Put that away.

Chigurh closed the bag. The man stood up from his leaning against the desk. He wiped his mouth with his foreknuckle.

I think what you need to consider, Chigurh said, is how you lost this money in the first place. Who you listened to and what happened when you did.

Yes. We cant talk here.

I understand. In any case I dont expect you to absorb all of this at one sitting. I’ll call you in two days time.

All right.

Chigurh rose from the couch. The man nodded toward the case. You could do a lot of business on your own with that, he said.

Chigurh smiled. We have a lot to talk about, he said. We’ll be dealing with new people now. There wont be any more problems.

What happened to the old people?

They’ve moved on to other things. Not everyone is suited to this line of work. The prospect of outsized profits leads people to exaggerate their own capabilities. In their minds. They pretend to themselves that they are in control of events where perhaps they are not. And it is always one’s stance upon uncertain ground that invites the attentions of one’s enemies. Or discourages it.

And you? What about your enemies?

I have no enemies. I dont permit such a thing.

He looked around the room. Nice office, he said. Low key. He nodded to a painting on the wall. Is that original?

The man looked at the painting. No, he said. It’s not. But I own the original. I keep it in a vault.

Excellent, said Chigurh.

The funeral was on a cold and windy day in March. She stood beside her grandmother’s sister. The sister’s husband sat in front of her in a wheelchair with his chin resting in his