Read Online The Book of Lost Fragrances: A Novel of Suspense by M. J. Rose - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M. J. Rose
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Egyptian religious practices.
“So for now, you and Therese are closer by not being as close?”
Robbie’s question made Griffin frown. “Well, aren’t you the prescient psychologist.”
“I hope you find the right solution.” Robbie had no advice to offer. His own relationships were anything but conventional. His partners—both men and women—always started out as, and settled back into, friendships. He never left anyone. Even if his passion burned out, his love never did. Nurturing those he cared about, he always kept them close.
Only one liaison—with a woman he’d met on a retreat—haunted him. The only lover he’d lost.
Griffin stopped in front of a door on the right. “Come in.”
Robbie took in the overcrowded room. Every corner, shelf and tabletop gleamed with gold and silver, bronze and copper, soft lights and shining crystals.
“What is this, Ali Baba’s cave?”
“Close. This is the Talmage Cabinet of Curiosities. My favorite room in the institute. Trevor Talmage founded the Phoenix Club in 1847 along with Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Frederick Law Olmsted and other well-known transcendentalists. His original mission—the search for knowledge and enlightenment—led to his starting this collection. I’ve appropriated it as my office while I’m working here.” He gestured to a desk that was covered with stacks of books and a laptop.
“The library is huge but subterranean and too sterile for me, so I bring as much of my research up here as I can,” Griffin said. “Let me show you some of the highlights.”
The room was paneled in walnut veneer, like the library in his own home in Paris. Exquisitely crafted glass cabinets lined the walls. Robbie glanced into one vitrine that held silver and gold chalices. Each was in the shape of a human face studded with all-too-realistic glass eyes. Another case housed a gilded birdcage with a bronze tree, complete with turquoise, onyx, malachite and amethyst birds perched on jade leaves. So true to life, it seemed at any minute they might take flight. A third was crammed with human and monkey skulls, bird and rodent skeletons, preserved lizards and snakes. A fourth held nothing but eggs: from the smallest sky-blue robin eggs to giant ostrich and emu eggs.
“I’ve become fascinated with these wunderkammers, ” Griffin said. “Cabinets of curiosities first came into fashion in the seventeenth century, when people were obsessed with the theme of the inevitability of death and the impermanence of life. Collecting was rebellion. Objects like these proved permanence. Two hundred years later, reincarnationists like Talmage and the other members of the Phoenix Club saw them as examples of the endless and repeating cycle of life and death.” Griffin pointed to a cabinet in the corner of the room. “Come look.”
When he got closer, Robbie recognized that it was made of amber, a hardened resin that had oozed from the bark of trees millions of years ago. A highly coveted material, it glowed like a slow-burning fire.
“It’s magical,” Griffin said. One by one, he opened the small, perfectly crafted drawers revealing a priceless collection of amber pieces, insects and amphibians held hostage for all time. They seemed still alive—just about to move—from the smallest bug to a large spider poised as if waiting for an insect to fall into its web.
“Now for the pièce de résistance,” Griffin said as he opened the bottom drawer. Each of the dozen compartments, lined in chocolate velvet, had a depression in its center. Nestled within every hollow except the last was a crystal flacon decorated with an amber-and-silver top. Each contained a lake of viscous liquid. Perfume thickened by more than a hundred years.
“Can I smell?”
“Go ahead.”
Robbie lifted out the first, unscrewed it and sniffed. The scent was basic and primordial. Rich with frankincense—he sniffed again—and borage, storax and myrrh.
For a moment, he couldn’t catch
“So for now, you and Therese are closer by not being as close?”
Robbie’s question made Griffin frown. “Well, aren’t you the prescient psychologist.”
“I hope you find the right solution.” Robbie had no advice to offer. His own relationships were anything but conventional. His partners—both men and women—always started out as, and settled back into, friendships. He never left anyone. Even if his passion burned out, his love never did. Nurturing those he cared about, he always kept them close.
Only one liaison—with a woman he’d met on a retreat—haunted him. The only lover he’d lost.
Griffin stopped in front of a door on the right. “Come in.”
Robbie took in the overcrowded room. Every corner, shelf and tabletop gleamed with gold and silver, bronze and copper, soft lights and shining crystals.
“What is this, Ali Baba’s cave?”
“Close. This is the Talmage Cabinet of Curiosities. My favorite room in the institute. Trevor Talmage founded the Phoenix Club in 1847 along with Henry David Thoreau, Walt Whitman, Frederick Law Olmsted and other well-known transcendentalists. His original mission—the search for knowledge and enlightenment—led to his starting this collection. I’ve appropriated it as my office while I’m working here.” He gestured to a desk that was covered with stacks of books and a laptop.
“The library is huge but subterranean and too sterile for me, so I bring as much of my research up here as I can,” Griffin said. “Let me show you some of the highlights.”
The room was paneled in walnut veneer, like the library in his own home in Paris. Exquisitely crafted glass cabinets lined the walls. Robbie glanced into one vitrine that held silver and gold chalices. Each was in the shape of a human face studded with all-too-realistic glass eyes. Another case housed a gilded birdcage with a bronze tree, complete with turquoise, onyx, malachite and amethyst birds perched on jade leaves. So true to life, it seemed at any minute they might take flight. A third was crammed with human and monkey skulls, bird and rodent skeletons, preserved lizards and snakes. A fourth held nothing but eggs: from the smallest sky-blue robin eggs to giant ostrich and emu eggs.
“I’ve become fascinated with these wunderkammers, ” Griffin said. “Cabinets of curiosities first came into fashion in the seventeenth century, when people were obsessed with the theme of the inevitability of death and the impermanence of life. Collecting was rebellion. Objects like these proved permanence. Two hundred years later, reincarnationists like Talmage and the other members of the Phoenix Club saw them as examples of the endless and repeating cycle of life and death.” Griffin pointed to a cabinet in the corner of the room. “Come look.”
When he got closer, Robbie recognized that it was made of amber, a hardened resin that had oozed from the bark of trees millions of years ago. A highly coveted material, it glowed like a slow-burning fire.
“It’s magical,” Griffin said. One by one, he opened the small, perfectly crafted drawers revealing a priceless collection of amber pieces, insects and amphibians held hostage for all time. They seemed still alive—just about to move—from the smallest bug to a large spider poised as if waiting for an insect to fall into its web.
“Now for the pièce de résistance,” Griffin said as he opened the bottom drawer. Each of the dozen compartments, lined in chocolate velvet, had a depression in its center. Nestled within every hollow except the last was a crystal flacon decorated with an amber-and-silver top. Each contained a lake of viscous liquid. Perfume thickened by more than a hundred years.
“Can I smell?”
“Go ahead.”
Robbie lifted out the first, unscrewed it and sniffed. The scent was basic and primordial. Rich with frankincense—he sniffed again—and borage, storax and myrrh.
For a moment, he couldn’t catch
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