Madonna Mia! How could this happen to him as an experienced investigator! At the first spray, he was so surprised, yes, dismayed, that his facial features contorted. Fruits! Apples and oranges! And he had expected herbs, rosemary, basil, something! Because he had prepared the test superficially, was careless and hasty in thinking and concluding. Odorato was angry with himself.
The name of the brand "Erbolario"; not a real Italian word, but still a coined term that made the listener, especially an Italian like Odorato, think of herbs: "erbe," the herbs, "erbario," the herbarium, "erborista," the herbalist. But of course he should have guessed (yes, must have!), that a company, even if it has herbs in its name, does not only offer herbal scents. A police student should have known that! And then the bottle, this dark green, which calibrates thoughts, adjusts the senses, creates an expectation: Something green must be coming. That was of course no excuse. A criminal investigator had to get to the bottom of things. He must not be misled by such airy, deceptive signs.
Well, green was the first scent impression too, after the diffuse herbal-alcoholic mist of the first five seconds had settled. Green apple. With orange juice. Odorato did not like green apples. And orange juice only for drinking.
So all expectations had to be thrown overboard now, and the further development of the scent had to be observed unerringly. Odorato was used to patient observation. The first two hours everything was mixed up, no clear impression emerged. The fruity notes undoubtedly remained in play, full-bodied and somewhat unspecific, but weakened over time; creamy and powdery impressions joined in (creamy-powdery freshness, can that even be - don’t think, keep observing); now and then Odorato even thought he perceived something like a bright minty freshness emerging. At some point, ozonic, light blue, almost turquoise sparkling fresh notes appeared, which Odorato suspected were certainly not "of purely plant origin."
In general, he had suspected it! If one read the company's website attentively, with X-ray vision and a clear mind (and not like the calcified, blinded by the first impression pseudo-investigator he seemed to be developing into), then there was indeed a (almost suspicious!) excess of nature lyricism to be noted, pages of braggadocio about "in the tradition of herbal cosmetics" and "respect for nature" and "sustainable controls," but if one tried to grasp the beautiful, soothing sentences, to nail them down legally mercilessly, as the prosecutor and the investigating judge would do, they crumbled like sand from the Adriatic beach. They ultimately meant nothing. Odorato was sure that these herbalists poured just as much chemistry into their bottles as any other fragrance shop.
These thoughts had spread in Odorato's mind, but he had still managed to continue focusing on the observation of the scent's development. And there, indeed, after about two hours, the scent seemed to stop oscillating and finally gained stability. Or had Odorato's mind finally become stable? Frescaessenza suddenly presented itself with a clear, recognizable character. White musk, bright, clean freshness. So this was the essence of the matter (Odorato knew besides his Orlando Furioso also Faust).
The annoying green apples had meanwhile shrunk to a very small (no longer unpleasant!) fresh prickly point in the background. The initially quite amusing ozonic notes, however, had unfortunately turned into a dull, soft fabric softener-like scent, thus enhancing its synthetic quality.
Odorato was now clear on everything! The look at the fragrance pyramid of "Frescaessenza" was merely a formality. The case was long solved. For as this white, softly clean musk note pushed forward and gave the scent a clear contour, in that very second Odorato remembered the three-part criminal study of this eccentric German about the three white clean scents, Blanche by Byredo, Linge Blanc by Amelie et Melanie / Lothanique, and Chemise Blanche by LM, which he had attentively studied in the trade magazine "Parfumo," and how all three functioned according to the same pattern: fresh-sparkling top note, white flowers in the heart, and white musk in the base.
And just like that, it was the same here again. The pattern was recognized! Citrus on top (and Odorato still wanted to swear that green apple also came from somewhere), white lilac and other light floral stuff in the middle, and white musk (and all kinds of woods, which he sensed just as little as Signorina Pluto, but he too apparently suffered from this wood insensitivity) at the bottom.
A white clean scent, a Bianchessenza, disguised as green! (But not with him, not with Odorato, he was still not completely rusty). With fruit and ozonic notes around it, that had to be admitted. And if one looked long enough at the dark green bottle, one might not want to outright deny a somehow grassy, herbal, or otherwise dark green hint - Odorato, after solving the case, was suddenly seized by generosity.
The observation was over, yet after five hours the olfactory traces were still perceptible. Did he like that? It wasn’t bad. But somewhat disappointing. He would repeat the observation once again off-duty. Maybe he would like the scent better then, when he was not observing it against the backdrop of his misguided expectations and his anger at himself.
Mille Grazie to Puderduft18!
Top Notes 
Mandarin orange
Lime leaf
Petitgrain
Pink pepper
Heart Notes 
May rose absolute
White lilac
Iris powder
Base Notes 
Cedarwood
White musk
Sandalwood
Yatagan
Fittleworth
Saec
Ergoproxy
Azahar
Parma
Fraujulia
Mörderbiene
Pluto
Serafina
