Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 48

           HecarriedthemtoLaure’sroom,laidtheshreddednightgownandundershirtonherbed,spreadtheredhairoverthepillow,satdownbesidethem,anddidnotleavetheroomagaindayornight,asifbypointlesslystandingguardnow,hecouldmakegoodwhathehadneglectedtodothatnightinLaNapoule.Hewassofullofdisgust,disgustattheworldandathimself,thathecouldnotweep.Hewasalsodisgustedbythemurderer.Hedidnotwanttoregardhimasahumanbeing,butonlyasavictimtobeslaughtered.Hedidnotwanttoseehimuntiltheexecution,whenhewouldbelaidonthecrossandthetwelveblowscrasheddownuponhim—thenhewouldwanttoseehim,wanttoseehimfromupclose,andhehadhadaplacereservedforhimselfinthefrontrow.Andwhenthecrowdhadwanderedoffafterafewhours,hewantedtoclimbupontothebloodyscaffoldandcrouchnexttohim,keepingwatch,bynight,byday,forhoweverlonghehadto,andlookintotheeyesofthisman,themurdererofhisdaughter,anddropbydroptotricklethedisgustwithinhimintothoseeyes,topourouthisdisgustlikeburningacidoverthemaninhisdeathagonies-untilthebeastperished…Andafterthat?Whatwouldhedoafterthat?Hedidnotknow.Perhapsresumehisnormallife,perhapsgetmarried,perhapsfatherason,perhapsdonothingatall,perhapsdie.Itmadenodifferencewhatevertohim.Tothinkaboutitseemedtohimaspointlessastothinkaboutwhathewoulddoafterhisowndeath:nothing,ofcourse.Nothingthathecouldknowatthispoint.

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