Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 35

           Thegentlemenwholivedbehindthesemodestshamfacadesreekedofgoldandpower,ofcarefullysecuredriches,andtheyreekedofitmorestronglythananythingGrenouillehadsmelledthusfaronhisjourneythroughtheprovinces.Hestoppedandstoodforagoodwhileinfrontofoneofthesecamouflagedpalazzi.ThehousewasatthebeginningoftherueDroite,amainarterythattraversedthewholelengthofthecity,fromwesttoeast.Itwasnothingextraordinarytolookat,perhapsthefrontwasalittlewiderandamplerthanitsneighbors’,butcertainlynotimposing.Atthegatewaystoodawagonfromwhichkegswerebeingunloadeddownaramp.Asecondvehiclestoodwaiting.Amanwithsomepaperswentintotheoffice,camebackoutwithanotherman,bothofthemdisappearedthroughthegateway.Grenouillestoodontheoppositesideofthestreetandwatchedthecomingsandgoings.Hewasnotinterestedinwhatwashappening.Andyethestoodthere.Somethingelsewasholdinghimfast.Heclosedhiseyesandconcentratedontheodorsthatcamefloatingtohimfromthebuildingacrosstheway.Thereweretheodorsofthekegs,vinegarandwine,thenthehundredfoldheavyodorsofthewarehouse,thentheodorsofwealththatthewallsexudedlikeafinegoldensweat,andfinallytheodorsofagardenthathadtolieonthefarsideofthebuilding.Itwasnoteasytocatchthedelicatescentsofthegarden,fortheycameonlyinthinribbonsfromoverthehouse’sgablesanddownintothestreet.

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