Quickly! Blow them out before the roses melt.
- Roses can't melt, papa. - These ones can.
Now I'd like to propose a toast to our guest of honor...
His Excellency, the Marquis de Montesquieu.
May our trade continue to flourish!
I thank you all...
and will ask of you the honor to be the first to...
offer my congratulations to your beautiful daughter.
And present her with a small token of my affection.
- I'm overwhelmed, Your Grace. - Your Grace?
I had hoped that it would be on more familiar terms by now.
- Let's have a game of hide-and-seek! - Oh, yes! But everyone must play.
Men catch the women.
Bravo! Bravo!
Albine, wait!
No!
Put me down, please!
Now there's no escape.
Game's over, everybody!
Laura!
Time to go in now!
Laura.
Albine! Fran?oise!
Laura, have you seen the twins?
No, not since the game started.
Albine. Fran?oise.
- Albine! Fran?oise! - Jacques, take this way.
You two, go with me.
Your Excellency, through here.
I've told that cretin ten times to get these ready.
Don't keep picking on the boy.
I'll kill the useless little sewer rat!
Grenouille! What are you doing?
Why aren't the enfleurage frames...
- Yes, master? - I mean...
would you be good enough to prepare the enfleurage frames, Jean-Baptiste?
Certainly, master.
Hey, look!
Sweet... There!
A curfew? Are you mad?
Jasmine can only be picked before dawn. We all know that!
This could mean the ruin of our trade!
Yours! And yours, and yours!
Supposing it's your daughter next time?
Of course, a curfew is necessary.
But we also have to catch this man.
And the only way to do that is to understand how he thinks!
- What he wants! - I should've thought that was obvious.
Use your imagination!
And if I were to tell you that all except the prostitute...
went to their graves with their chastity intact?
- How would you know? - The coroner had each girl examined.
They were all found to be virgins.
Supposing there isn't a next time...
if we introduce a curfew, we may all go bankrupt for nothing.
So we wait until he's killed what... Six? Seven? Eight?
Curfew! Go back to your homes!
- What's happening? - It's a curfew. Back to your home.
Gentlemen! Gentlemen!
We have to face the fact that our police are helpless in this matter.
- I suggest that we ask for support from Paris. - Paris won't be smarter than we are.
Arrest every Gypsy and beggar! And every man without a wife and family!
Listen!
We have to put ourselves inside the mind of this man.
Each of his victims had an especial beauty.
We know he doesn't want their virginity.
So, it seems to me that it's that beauty itself...
that he wants. It's almost as if...
as if he's trying to gather something.
His ambitions of those of a collector.
- A collector of what? - Their hair?
Get out! Get out!
Whatever it is...
I fear he won't stop killing until his collection is complete.
Here you are! Next!
You too!
Monsieur?
This man... this man is a demon!
A phantom who cannot be fought by human means!
Now I insist that we call upon our bishop to excommunicate him!
What good would that do?
Have you no faith in the power of our Holy Mother Church?
It's not a matter of faith! There's a murderer out there!
And we must catch him by using our God-given wits.
I say, until we submit him to our church...
these killings will not cease.
Citizens of Grasse...
we hereby declare that this murderer...
is demon in our midst.
Has incurred the sentence of excommunication!
Not only has this depraved monster robbed us of our daughters...
the young and fair blossom of the city...
and by his wanton acts, has brought our trade...
our livelihood, our very existence...
to the brink of eternal darkness!
We therefore declare, that this vile viper...
this ignominious carbuncle, this extricable evil in our midsts...
shall henceforth be solemnly banned from our Holy Presence...
rejected from the Communion of Holy Mother Church...
as a disciple of Satan.
Slayer of souls...
Stand clear! Stand clear!
outsider of the faith...
a necromancer, a diabolist, a sorcerer...
a damned heretic!
Oh, God! In thy most merciful spirit,
bring down thunderbolts upon his head!
And may the Devil make stope of his bones! Amen!
My Lord! My Lord!
It's a miracle!
He's been caught! He's been caught!
My Lord, the fiend has been caught.
In the city of Grenoble. He's confessed to everything.
He's confessed to everything!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Thanks be to God. And we thank him for listening to our prayers...
and answering them. Amen!
Amen! Amen!
Just read the report. This cannot possibly be the same man.
He confessed to everything, including the murders in Grasse.
Yes, and the torture.
Look, here!
He admits to strangling his victims...
pulling out their hair, and ravaging them.
The girls of Grasse were killed by a single blow to the back of their heads.
Their hair was carefully cropped. And not one of them was violated.
Antoine...
we're all happy it's over.
Let it go.
- Papa, what's the matter? - We're going home, now!
- But why? I'm enjoying myself! - Don't argue with me!
Stop it! I'm grown-up...
Laura!
Out of my way!
Laura!
- Laura! - Papa!
I'm so sorry.
I know you must think me a very foolish man.
But try to understand.
- You're all I have left. - You don't need to explain, papa.
- If anything would happen to you... - I know.
But you must stop worrying about me all the time.
Sweet dreams, my love.
Sweet dreams, papa.
Laura!
Papa, what's the matter?
Did you open the window?
No. Why?
Have this letter dispatched to the Marquis de Montesquieu immediately.
Marie, quickly!
Stay on the road north, into the mountains.
- Did Monsieur Richis leave? - He did.
Which way?
North.
- You sure it wasn't south? - I saw them with my own eyes!
What do you want to know?
I said north, north!
Grenouille?
Grenouille!
Good God!
- Good afternoon, monsieur. - Good afternoon.
Do you have anyone else staying here?
No, monsieur.
Then I would like to take all your rooms for the night.
It will be a pleasure, monsieur.
And tomorrow, first light, we wish to be ferried to the Iles de L¨Śrins.
- It's deserted except for a few... - I'm aware of that.
Very well, monsieur.
Our finest room, mademoiselle.
With the superb view of the sea.
One moment.
Very well.
- Do you have a room next to this? - Yes, but the view cannot be compared to...
There have no interest in the view.
Oh, my God...
Monsieur.
Papa, will you please tell me now what's happening.
You haven't said a word all day.
Why all the secrecy?
Last night, I dreamt you were dead...
murdered like all the other girls.
The truth is I'm convinced that the killer is still here somewhere.
All of his victims were young and beautiful, and who is there more beautiful than you, Laura?
Whatever his insane scheme, it will surely be incomplete without you.
I've written to the Marquis accepting his proposal and marriage on your behalf,
and requesting that it take place as soon as possible.
Until then, you stay in the safety of the monastery.
- And all this, because you had a bad dream? - I've made my decision.
- But I don't know whether I even love him! - I'm afraid the circumstances leave us no choice.
- Papa! - It's all arranged, Laura.
On your feet!
Hands in the air!
Why did you kill my daughter?
Why?
I needed her.
Why did you kill my daughter?
I just...
needed her.
Very well.
But you remember this:
I'll be looking at you...
when you're laid on the cross,
and the twelve blows are crashing down on your limbs.
When the crowd is finally tired of your screams and wandered home...
I will climb up through your blood...
and sit beside you.
I will look deep into your eyes...
and drop by drop...
I will trickle my digust into them...
like burning acid...
until...
finally...
you perish.
What do you think they'll do to him?
Apparently, they're gonna break every bone in his body with an iron bar.
Look, there he comes!
Unchain the prisoner.
That's enough.
Let him be brought to the scaffold.
What's that?
Is he coming? What's his name?
This man is innocent.
- He didn't do it. It's impossible! - He's innocent!
He's innocent!
This is no man! This is an angel!
You can't fool me!
Forgive me!
My son!
People of Grasse awoke to a terrible hangover.
For many of them, the experience was so gustly, so completely inexplicable...
and incompatible with their morals, that they literally erased it from their memories.
The town council was in session by the afternoon.
And an order was passed to the police lieutenant to immediately begin fresh investigations into the murders.
The following day, Dominique Druot was arrested.
Since it was in his backyard that the clothes and hair of all the victims had been found.
After fourteen hours of torture, Druot confessed to everything.
With that, the case was closed.
By then, Grenouille was already halfway back to Paris.
He still had enough perfume left to enslave the whole world, if he so chose.
He could walk to Versailles, and have the King kiss his feet.
He could write the Pope a perfumed letter, and reveal himself as a new Messiah.
He could do all this, and more if he wanted to.
He possessed a power stronger than the power of money, or terror, or death.
The invincible power to command the love of mankind.
There was only one thing the perfume could not do.
It could not turn him into a person who could love and be loved like everyone else.
So, to hell with it, he thought. To hell with the world.
With the perfume, with himself.
On the 25th of June, 1766, around 11 o'clock at night,
Grenouille entered the city through the port-de-Leones.
And like a sleepwalker, his olfactory memories drew him back to the place where he was born.
An angel!
I love you!
Within no time, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille had disappeared from the face of the earth.
When they had finished, they felt a virginal glow of happiness.
For the first time in their lives, they believed that they had done something...
purely out of love.
Hey, over here!
Look!
Let's take them away.
You could wear them.
*Transcribed and synchronized by Grant*