Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 44

           Allthathewouldtakewithhimwouldbe,asusual,thehairandclothes,sincethesecouldbewasheddirectlyinrectifiedspirit,whichcouldbedonemoreconvenientlyintheworkshop.Heestimateditwouldtakeanadditionalnighttocompletetheproductionofthepomadeandtodistilltheconcentrate.Andifeverythingwentwell-andhehadnoreasontodoubtthateverythingwouldgowell—thenbythedayaftertomorrowhewouldpossessalloftheessencesneededforthebestperfumeintheworld,andhewouldleaveGrasseastheworld’smostfragranthumanbeing.Aroundnoonhewasfinishedwithhisjonquils.Hedousedthefire,coveredthepotofoil,andsteppedoutsidetheworkshoptocooloff.Thewindwasfromthewest.Withhisveryfirstbreath,heknewsomethingwaswrong.Theatmospherewasnotasitshouldbe.Inthetown’saromaticgarb,thatveilofmanythousandsofwoventhreads,thegoldenthreadwasmissing.DuringthelastfewweeksthefragranceofthatthreadhadgrownsostrongthatGrenouiliehadclearlydiscerneditfromhiscabinonthefarsideofthetown.Nowitwasgone,vanished,untraceabledespitethemostintensivesniffing.Grenouiliewasalmostparalyzedwithfright.Sheisdead,hethought.Then,moreterrifyingstill:Someoneelsehasgottoherbeforeme.Someoneelsehaspluckedmyflowerandtakenitsodorforhimself!Hecouldnotsomuchasscream,theshockwastoogreatforthat,buthecouldproducetearsthatwelledupinthecornersofhiseyesandsuddenlystreameddownbothsidesofhisnose.

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