Galileo’s Telescope

We were still working on our lead in Florence, pursuing that elusive Ceylon Sapphire taken from the Paris boutique.

However, Peridot wanted some time away from the case. He always reminded me that the science of deduction includes time to allow the subconscious to process the facts. It was no accident we would visit the famous telescope; Peridot's agenda for our trip was becoming quite clear. Florence was a treasure trove of history just waiting to be explored.

"This telescope, my boy, is over 400 years old," said my friend Alister Peridot. We stood over a glass enclosure at the Museo Galileo in Florence, Italy. "It is the very instrument that Galileo Galilei used to discover the moons of Jupiter. Thus changing the accepted view of the cosmos.”

The telescope was about three feet long and consisted of a central tube with separate housings at either end for the objective and the eyepiece. The tube was formed by joining strips of wood. It was covered with brown leather and gold tooling.

In a rather excited state, Peridot tilted his head, raised his right index finger, and cleared his throat, “If my memory serves me, in the early 17th Century, most Europeans accepted the Roman Catholic Church's account of creation, which placed our planet at the center of the universe.”

My colleague paused, raised one eyebrow, and smiled to collect his thoughts: “Galileo’s telescope, invented in 1609, overturned this idea by allowing the scientist to observe moon-like phases in the planet Venus, which could only be explained by a sun-centered solar system.”

The displays contained many rare astronomical instruments – including the objective lens created by the scientist and the only two existing telescopes built by Galileo himself.

After a quick search on my mobile device, I discovered and mentioned, "Thanks to Galileo’s careful documentation, record-keepers worldwide have recreated Galileo’s telescope for museums, and replicas are now sold for amateurs and collectors as well!"

"Absolutely, the replica we've seen at the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles is authentic. This original has held up quite well, wouldn't you say?" said Peridot.

After leaving the museum, we strolled the cobblestone streets and found a quaint outdoor caffè.

“How about an espresso?” said Peridot.

Once seated, in my haste, I blurted out, “What about this American, this amateur art collector who contacted Monsieur Rossi? What about his involvement? Should we not contact him either?”

Peridot leaned back in his chair with a cup and saucer in hand. He tipped his tiny cup and smiled, “Yes, yes - patience, my boy; the gem business is not transient. We have the opportunity to examine rare and beautiful objects at our leisure.

Time is on our side; let’s simply allow the events to unfold and enjoy this savory treat. Why, just moments ago, I received an e-mail from Mr. Richard Leyland.

Seems our American friend has confirmed an early dinner”. . .

. . . To be continued.

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