Wensker was on his veranda enjoying the emerging spring. The sun was shining, Wensker sighed with a smile and resolved to schedule such breaks more often. Then the phone rang, Schubert's name lit up on the display. He briefly considered turning off his phone as he suspected that Haller had accidentally shot Schubert in the leg or something similar. The two were unfortunately good at such things. But he answered anyway, being the dutiful person he was.
"What’s going on?"
"Hello, boss, murder in Sicily."
"What? In the restaurant? What happened?"
"The owner is lying in a red puddle on the floor, a guest found her."
"Horrible. Okay, secure the crime scene, I'm coming. Don’t touch anything. You haven’t touched anything, have you?"
"Haller slipped on the blood, we thought at first she had spilled ketchup and fallen asleep. It’s lunchtime, after all. Anyway, he went home briefly to get fresh clothes. Hopefully, the stains will come out."
"...Please don’t move, I’ll hurry!"
Upon arrival, he was first greeted by a bitter hesperidic scent. It didn’t just smell of bergamot and lemon; the scent was heavier in its sprightliness. Wensker saw Schubert devouring 3 kilos of bitter oranges. He looked at his colleague in astonishment.
"Well, it was a bit boring inside. I just went into the kitchen and took the blood oranges away. Ursel doesn’t do anything with them anymore. Just a small mishap, a bit of it spilled on the white, elegant leather. Where the blood puddle is too."
"Schubert... you two... fell on your heads too often as kids... I’m going inside!"
Inside, Wensker was confronted with a scene that initially appeared very bloody and horrific. Ursel Sattlinger, who loved to vacation in Italy, had opened Sicily many years ago. Here, one could eat cheaply, and in the evenings, not a few mating-minded middle-aged folks gathered over inexpensive spirits. The exciting question now was what had happened here. Wensker discovered a bleeding wound on the head; a lot of blood had flowed into the carpet. However, the whole place still smelled of bitter citrus, which felt quite warm but not necessarily inviting. Almost warm-hearted yet distantly cool with a tendency towards darker elements. A subtle leather note lingered as well. Suddenly, Wensker noticed something:
"Did anyone move the body?"
"No, why?"
"Didn’t you tell me that orange juice had mixed with the blood? Where was that supposed to be? Everything is fundamentally cleaned - apart from the body and the puddle."
"Well, I might be mistaken. I had three shots of schnapps for breakfast."
"And then you drove??? Are you serious?"
"Of course, Haller, I had more to drink."
Time passed, evidence was secured, the press was clamoring for news, and Wensker had a feeling. He looked at the corpse and was surprised to find an empty cola can and a chocolate bar wrapper lying next to it.
"Who put their trash next to the body? What a mess!"
No one spoke up.
The scent, however, still lingering in the air, shifted more towards birch. Green, aromatic, not smoky but reminiscent of smoke. Clearly influenced by the Hesperides. Somehow also spiced with cardamom, as this birch smelled slightly sharp and ethereal. In this state, the scent should remain. One could easily mistake this blend for a kind of juniper.
Wensker had an idea, and what he observed when everyone had left and the body was practically waiting for transport to pathology was indeed a rarity, but now it was clear where the scent came from! Ursel was moving, spraying herself with a fragrance, and looking for the cola can! Zombies in Bavaria? No, he didn’t want to believe that.
"Ursel, get up, I saw you."
The corpse stirred and then sat up. "What a surprise, that wasn’t the plan."
"What’s with the theatrics here?"
"Sicily isn’t doing well, I wanted to cheat the life insurance. And then start anew in real Sicily. With my new lover Basti, who is basically a kind of Italian."
"I’m sorry, Ursel. That’s it."
As Ursel was taken away, he noticed the scent again. It had now become rather bitter, devoid of freshness, lacking in much, but not of any high-quality leather. Ursel hadn’t revealed her lover’s identity, except for his first name. He would set his colleague Basti Briatore on it; as an Italian from the area and a police colleague, he might know someone. Wensker stubbed out his cigarette. The scent was now gone as well.
Top Notes 
Citron
Bitter orange
Italian bergamot
Cardamom
Coriander seed
Heart Notes 
Fir balsam
Violet leaf
Base Notes 
White leather
Atlas cedar
Patchouli
Gaiac wood
Hermesh
TheDunkPapa
Acanthea
NicheOnly
lucacorti
3aloosh
Axiomatic
Yatagan
FrauKirsche
Ergoproxy
