Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 45

           Thenhefoldedtheclothtogetherlikeatapestry,sothattheoiledsurfaceslayagainstoneanother.Thiswasapainfulprocedureforhim,becauseheknewwellthatdespitetheutmostcautioncertainpartsofthesculptedcontourswouldbeflattenedorshifted.Buttherewasnootherwaytotransportthecloth.Afterhehadfoldeditupsmallenoughtobecarriedunderhisarmwithoutalltoomuchdifficulty,hetuckedspatula,scissors,andthelittleolivewoodclubinhispocketsandcreptoutintothenight.Theskywascloudedover.Therewerenolightsburningintheinn.Theonlyglimmeronthispitch-darknightwasthewinkingofthelighthouseatthefortontheHeSainte-Marguerite,overamileawaytotheeast,atinybrightneedlepointinaraven-blackcloth.Alight,fishywindwasblowingfromthebay.Thedogswereasleep.Grenouillewalkedtothebackdormerofthethreshingshed,wherealadderstoodpropped.Hepickedtheladderup,andbalancingitvertically,threerungsclampedunderhisfreerightarm,therestofitpressedagainsthisrightshoulder,hemovedacrossthecourtyarduntilhewasunderherwindow.Thewindowstoodhalfajar.Asheclimbedtheladder,aseasilyasasetofstairs,hecongratulatedhimselfonthecircumstancesthatmadeitpossibleforhimtoharvestthegirl’sscenthereinLaNapoule.InGrasse,wherethehousehadbarredwindowsandwastightlyguarded,allthiswouldhavebeenmuchmoredifficult.Shewasevensleepingbyherselfhere.Hewouldnothavetobotherwitheliminatingthemaid.Hepushedupthecasement,slippedintotheroom,andlaiddownhiscloth.

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