“You see Keen,” Dr H continued, “it was no accident the smoke was leaked in that nightclub. My college roommate was all about the public good.” He spat on the ground. “By the time he’d died, I was fed up with his philanthropy. There was so much good around him I was desensitized to it. Good has no real effect on me now. So when I reclaimed my formula, I vowed to use it to return the favor of desensitization. He always said to do unto others as others do unto you!” He threw back his head & cackled.
Keen threw himself to the floor, to the only clean air in the small closet.
There he saw those canisters he’d seen in the lobby.
Of course! he thought. Their colors are like those of my clients’ hair colors! I assume that’s where their senses are. Now how to get to them?
The Detective had to fight to keep his wits about him. Then, impulsively, he lashed out at Dr. H, grabbing his nose & forcing the surprised doctor to breathe through his mouth.
He gasped, inhaling a deep breath of purple.