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11/01/2019
Meggi
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Commissioner Olfattke takes time out
First chapter - By the sea
"What are you doing?"
Bertram Olfattke winced. The voice had jerked him out of distant memories of vacations in the mountains. He looked up and caught sight of a boy of perhaps eight years standing, a dark blue child's bicycle between his legs, next to the bench. Behind him, a slightly younger girl peered over, clutching the handle of a scooter and pushing the vehicle back and forth with her right foot - as if she wasn't sure if it was time to flee right away. However, the two did not seem to be afraid, rather Olfattke had the impression of having become the involuntary object of a kind of test of courage.
It would be no miracle if they had selected him for it. He simply had to seem cranky, as he sat there in his faded jacket in the sun, while beachgoers everywhere strolled along the Labo promenade in light, summery clothing.
"What are you doing?" the boy repeated his question and the girl, now apparently convinced that there was no imminent danger, moved closer.
"I'm snooping. After all, I'm a snoop."
That was true. Both. Although, of course, the pun was unfair. In fact, he was about to try a fragrance. Taking two samples of sea scents, he had found fitting. They would have to face the direct comparison with the Baltic Sea. Then it was at least of some use that the police psychologist had forced him to take this vacation. For months she had worked on him...
At least with the today's Machwerk was meer-mäßig not much going on. The stuff had knocked him around the nose with a warm-sweet pungent opening, close to bakery-flavored over-sweetness-pieces. The sultry florality of lily of the valley unfortunately fit in all too well. A diffuse marine note had swiftly followed, which, in association with the sweetness, was at best like recreating a psychedelic sunbath on a soft-focus beach. The supposedly included strawflower was either heroic or an acted joke. With a lot of good will, one could think of something like spicy hay. Alpine meadow hay, like back then in the Berchtesgadener Land, vacations with his parents. That was more than half a century ago, as he had just scowled and calculated. Mannomann... And into this consideration the boy had burst with his question.
With difficulty Olfattke managed to remain serious, when he saw two pairs of eyes abruptly become larger. Behind it ran certainly just a head cinema in the style of an absurd play to the topic "Schnüffler". However, his secret joy quickly gave way to another, strange feeling. Astonished, he realized that he found the children's unabashed curiosity congenial. Confidence-inspiring.
"I'm a policeman. With the criminal police. And we are sometimes called snoopers. But that has nothing to do with snooping just now. I test a perfume."
The eyes became possibly even larger. If already, then already, thought Olfattke, rummaged out a business card, sprayed it briefly and held it out to the two. They sniffed cautiously - and curled their lips. Aha, a case of 'children's mouths tell the truth', the inspector stated cheerfully, took the card again and threw it into a waste garbage can.
Several seconds of tense silence passed before it dawned on him that merely referring to a strange hobby could not quench a child's thirst for knowledge.
Right.
"Do you catch criminals?" gushed the girl.
"Yes. Just not now. Now I'm on vacation."
"And why don't you go to the beach? Everybody goes to the beach!"
Olfattke hesitated to answer. But why not?
"Actually, I don't like the beach very much. A doctor said that I should go here once. Some time ago, a colleague of mine...died. And that wouldn't have happened if we had arrested the...criminal right away. That's not a nice memory."
Half an hour and many, many questions and careful explanations later, he watched as Jan and Lena curved home in daring slalom among the walkers to get home in time for lunch.
That day, the commissioner sat quietly on his bench for a long time, deep in thought. Only more casually he pursued, how a brackish-artwoody impression gradually transferred his test candidate into a fun-as harmless diffuse-sweetish-creamy, algae-flowery mixture. If that was the smell of the South Pacific: No one had to fly halfway around the world for that.
At last he rose, a little stiff in the back, and made his way to his little boarding house. The prospect of the landlady's beddy-bye chatter made him sigh inwardly. He would take a timely leave for his room and read deep into the night.
------------------------
The remaining chapters:
2. Zoologist, Bat
3. Profumum Roma, Acqua di Sale
"What are you doing?"
Bertram Olfattke winced. The voice had jerked him out of distant memories of vacations in the mountains. He looked up and caught sight of a boy of perhaps eight years standing, a dark blue child's bicycle between his legs, next to the bench. Behind him, a slightly younger girl peered over, clutching the handle of a scooter and pushing the vehicle back and forth with her right foot - as if she wasn't sure if it was time to flee right away. However, the two did not seem to be afraid, rather Olfattke had the impression of having become the involuntary object of a kind of test of courage.
It would be no miracle if they had selected him for it. He simply had to seem cranky, as he sat there in his faded jacket in the sun, while beachgoers everywhere strolled along the Labo promenade in light, summery clothing.
"What are you doing?" the boy repeated his question and the girl, now apparently convinced that there was no imminent danger, moved closer.
"I'm snooping. After all, I'm a snoop."
That was true. Both. Although, of course, the pun was unfair. In fact, he was about to try a fragrance. Taking two samples of sea scents, he had found fitting. They would have to face the direct comparison with the Baltic Sea. Then it was at least of some use that the police psychologist had forced him to take this vacation. For months she had worked on him...
At least with the today's Machwerk was meer-mäßig not much going on. The stuff had knocked him around the nose with a warm-sweet pungent opening, close to bakery-flavored over-sweetness-pieces. The sultry florality of lily of the valley unfortunately fit in all too well. A diffuse marine note had swiftly followed, which, in association with the sweetness, was at best like recreating a psychedelic sunbath on a soft-focus beach. The supposedly included strawflower was either heroic or an acted joke. With a lot of good will, one could think of something like spicy hay. Alpine meadow hay, like back then in the Berchtesgadener Land, vacations with his parents. That was more than half a century ago, as he had just scowled and calculated. Mannomann... And into this consideration the boy had burst with his question.
With difficulty Olfattke managed to remain serious, when he saw two pairs of eyes abruptly become larger. Behind it ran certainly just a head cinema in the style of an absurd play to the topic "Schnüffler". However, his secret joy quickly gave way to another, strange feeling. Astonished, he realized that he found the children's unabashed curiosity congenial. Confidence-inspiring.
"I'm a policeman. With the criminal police. And we are sometimes called snoopers. But that has nothing to do with snooping just now. I test a perfume."
The eyes became possibly even larger. If already, then already, thought Olfattke, rummaged out a business card, sprayed it briefly and held it out to the two. They sniffed cautiously - and curled their lips. Aha, a case of 'children's mouths tell the truth', the inspector stated cheerfully, took the card again and threw it into a waste garbage can.
Several seconds of tense silence passed before it dawned on him that merely referring to a strange hobby could not quench a child's thirst for knowledge.
Right.
"Do you catch criminals?" gushed the girl.
"Yes. Just not now. Now I'm on vacation."
"And why don't you go to the beach? Everybody goes to the beach!"
Olfattke hesitated to answer. But why not?
"Actually, I don't like the beach very much. A doctor said that I should go here once. Some time ago, a colleague of mine...died. And that wouldn't have happened if we had arrested the...criminal right away. That's not a nice memory."
Half an hour and many, many questions and careful explanations later, he watched as Jan and Lena curved home in daring slalom among the walkers to get home in time for lunch.
That day, the commissioner sat quietly on his bench for a long time, deep in thought. Only more casually he pursued, how a brackish-artwoody impression gradually transferred his test candidate into a fun-as harmless diffuse-sweetish-creamy, algae-flowery mixture. If that was the smell of the South Pacific: No one had to fly halfway around the world for that.
At last he rose, a little stiff in the back, and made his way to his little boarding house. The prospect of the landlady's beddy-bye chatter made him sigh inwardly. He would take a timely leave for his room and read deep into the night.
------------------------
The remaining chapters:
2. Zoologist, Bat
3. Profumum Roma, Acqua di Sale
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