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02/18/2021
Chizza
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Chizza
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Whether Bristol or Bavaria...
Wensker had just returned from a weekend trip to his old home, when a new case was already waiting for him in Bavaria. The scene of the crime was the city-famous Bristol Club, city-famous above all because it was the only club in town. This club was commonly regarded as a refuge for many out-of-town older and well-heeled gentlemen who indulged in cigars, good whiskey and other things. Here the unthinkable happened, one of their members was kidnapped and left only a note: "M._T., you write that together!"
"What can this mean, boss? Am once at Mc Donalds?"
"Schaller...when did you get out of school anyway? We don't know what that means yet but I've seen it before...that was many years ago and I'd blocked it out...record everything here, I need to make a call!"
It rang: "Cravachski, JVA Herne, please? Aha....na good, Commissioner. I'll get him here!"
A cell opened.
"Mr. Wollny? You are wanted!"
A little later:
"Wolle, how are you doing in prison?"
"Well, no beer and you can't wash here either."
An interjection: "but and we all wish you would finally wash!"
"At least I don't have to see my wife, I can't even remember if her name was Ilse or Pamela Anderson. Or Bill. But enough, why are we talking on the phone?"
"Well, you remember those mysterious letters you received when your rocker club was called the Bristol Club for short? Didn't a few of your novices disappear then too?"
"My brain doesn't work so well without beer but there you go. You never caught the culprit!"
"Er, yes, it was the gardener."
"Ah...that's right, Berthold Flavius of Testerolus Monsieur-Burgeck Gardener, or as his friends call him: Monsieur Test."
"MonsieurTest you mean."
"But it also goes Monsieur_Test."
"Ok, thanks Wool, I'll have a beer cake smuggled in for you, I'll be in touch!"
There it was, the hot lead! Now he had to get back to the Bristol Club first!
As Wensker entered the club, he was immediately struck by the freshly polished leather shoes - welted, what else? - of the gentlemen. In addition, the water with which one of the employees cleaned the shoes. "Smells a bit very orangey, I must say. A bit sweet."
"Commissioner, wait and see. This is about to unfurl into a waxy scent, but it remains citrusy tangy. For now, anyway."
"Seems a bit spicy to me, too. Good, I didn't say anything."
So Wensker walked on, inspecting the rooms, when he saw Rubert and Schaller in one room, "Colleagues, is it? You're supposed to be securing evidence, not smoking a pipe with the daily paper and cognac in hand!"
"Undercover investigation, chief. Become one with your entourage."
"You peat noses do know that your police uniform is of little use to you in this, don't you?"
"Oh....äh....."
Wensker followed the honey trail with orange blossom enclosed, noticing there was lavender mixed in. "It comes out very tart and herbaceous though, I haven't smelled lavender like that before. But no wonder, with Monsieur Gardener!"
He then stopped at the adjacent pine grove. The wind was roaring in the branches, the sky was grey and dreary. The scent of the pines was blown over to Wensker, it was a very ethereal, powerful, spicy-olive green scent. The mixture of all these olfactory impressions projected a green-animalic image; harsh, hard, bitter and uncompromising.
As he let this repeat over and over in his mind, it was clear to him! The novices had wanted to convert Wolle's clubhouse into some sort of fetish pleasure house back in the day, he had only been shown the areas here on site that the older gentlemen wanted to show! Surely there wouldn't be....more to it than that? Besides, M_T couldn't just kidnap two people like that! Here in the sticks! And anyway, where was that moaning and rustling in the bushes coming from? As if there were tied up people hidden there...but quiet! Quiet, Wensker admonished himself, not to be distracted, not even by the clothes in front of the bushes and the strange masked man who went into the bushes, seemed to maltreat something a few times only to turn off this strange rustling afterwards.
Enough was enough! He had to get back to the Bristol Club! Here it smelled mossy green then, rather relaxing, the pine interlude was over.
"Ok, the game's up, this is such a special joint after all, admit it already!"
"Mr. Wensker, no one disputed that, and didn't you notice that with our lacquer and leather attire?"
"Oh...now that you mention it....Rubert, why are you wearing such a rag too? Schaller....?"
"Become one with the environment," they both murmured.
"Ok but where is MonsieurTest now?"
"MonsieurTest," one corrected the commissioner in chorus.
"Yes, that's the one."
"Left earlier. He thought you'd get to it early, is in Ede's inn in the village."
"Rubert and Schaller, didn't you arrest him?"
"We should inspect, chief. We only have two hands too."
Wensker left the club, unnerved, and looked once more into the valley before getting into the car. "Two hands.....two brains would be nice...." he grumbled to himself.
Bristol Club closes increasingly cool-mossy, the animalic notes, for me a kind of juniper combination, varying in intensity. Here and there you can find balsamic elements, overall a very varied fragrance. Overall, Matos has created something beautiful here, changeable and successful in its raw, direct way. Nevertheless, for more it is not enough because the certain something is missing.
"What can this mean, boss? Am once at Mc Donalds?"
"Schaller...when did you get out of school anyway? We don't know what that means yet but I've seen it before...that was many years ago and I'd blocked it out...record everything here, I need to make a call!"
It rang: "Cravachski, JVA Herne, please? Aha....na good, Commissioner. I'll get him here!"
A cell opened.
"Mr. Wollny? You are wanted!"
A little later:
"Wolle, how are you doing in prison?"
"Well, no beer and you can't wash here either."
An interjection: "but and we all wish you would finally wash!"
"At least I don't have to see my wife, I can't even remember if her name was Ilse or Pamela Anderson. Or Bill. But enough, why are we talking on the phone?"
"Well, you remember those mysterious letters you received when your rocker club was called the Bristol Club for short? Didn't a few of your novices disappear then too?"
"My brain doesn't work so well without beer but there you go. You never caught the culprit!"
"Er, yes, it was the gardener."
"Ah...that's right, Berthold Flavius of Testerolus Monsieur-Burgeck Gardener, or as his friends call him: Monsieur Test."
"MonsieurTest you mean."
"But it also goes Monsieur_Test."
"Ok, thanks Wool, I'll have a beer cake smuggled in for you, I'll be in touch!"
There it was, the hot lead! Now he had to get back to the Bristol Club first!
As Wensker entered the club, he was immediately struck by the freshly polished leather shoes - welted, what else? - of the gentlemen. In addition, the water with which one of the employees cleaned the shoes. "Smells a bit very orangey, I must say. A bit sweet."
"Commissioner, wait and see. This is about to unfurl into a waxy scent, but it remains citrusy tangy. For now, anyway."
"Seems a bit spicy to me, too. Good, I didn't say anything."
So Wensker walked on, inspecting the rooms, when he saw Rubert and Schaller in one room, "Colleagues, is it? You're supposed to be securing evidence, not smoking a pipe with the daily paper and cognac in hand!"
"Undercover investigation, chief. Become one with your entourage."
"You peat noses do know that your police uniform is of little use to you in this, don't you?"
"Oh....äh....."
Wensker followed the honey trail with orange blossom enclosed, noticing there was lavender mixed in. "It comes out very tart and herbaceous though, I haven't smelled lavender like that before. But no wonder, with Monsieur Gardener!"
He then stopped at the adjacent pine grove. The wind was roaring in the branches, the sky was grey and dreary. The scent of the pines was blown over to Wensker, it was a very ethereal, powerful, spicy-olive green scent. The mixture of all these olfactory impressions projected a green-animalic image; harsh, hard, bitter and uncompromising.
As he let this repeat over and over in his mind, it was clear to him! The novices had wanted to convert Wolle's clubhouse into some sort of fetish pleasure house back in the day, he had only been shown the areas here on site that the older gentlemen wanted to show! Surely there wouldn't be....more to it than that? Besides, M_T couldn't just kidnap two people like that! Here in the sticks! And anyway, where was that moaning and rustling in the bushes coming from? As if there were tied up people hidden there...but quiet! Quiet, Wensker admonished himself, not to be distracted, not even by the clothes in front of the bushes and the strange masked man who went into the bushes, seemed to maltreat something a few times only to turn off this strange rustling afterwards.
Enough was enough! He had to get back to the Bristol Club! Here it smelled mossy green then, rather relaxing, the pine interlude was over.
"Ok, the game's up, this is such a special joint after all, admit it already!"
"Mr. Wensker, no one disputed that, and didn't you notice that with our lacquer and leather attire?"
"Oh...now that you mention it....Rubert, why are you wearing such a rag too? Schaller....?"
"Become one with the environment," they both murmured.
"Ok but where is MonsieurTest now?"
"MonsieurTest," one corrected the commissioner in chorus.
"Yes, that's the one."
"Left earlier. He thought you'd get to it early, is in Ede's inn in the village."
"Rubert and Schaller, didn't you arrest him?"
"We should inspect, chief. We only have two hands too."
Wensker left the club, unnerved, and looked once more into the valley before getting into the car. "Two hands.....two brains would be nice...." he grumbled to himself.
Bristol Club closes increasingly cool-mossy, the animalic notes, for me a kind of juniper combination, varying in intensity. Here and there you can find balsamic elements, overall a very varied fragrance. Overall, Matos has created something beautiful here, changeable and successful in its raw, direct way. Nevertheless, for more it is not enough because the certain something is missing.
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