Skip to main content

1740 Tsavorite Lane

Upon our return from India we spent a few days unraveling the sapphire mystery at Peridot’s home in Los Angeles.

Not long after I was hired to teach at the school of Gemology, Hercule Peridot completed his sabbatical there and resumed his duties at the University. He had long since retired from his teaching as a tenured professor of Geological Sciences. The son of a wealthy businessman, he never wanted for money. He had moved west to earn his Ph.D. from Stanford.

The access road was a narrow winding climb. What emerged was a low profile bungalow nestled in the Hollywood hills. Peridot’s home at 1740 Tsavorite Lane was rather spartan on the outside but would prove quite comfortable inside.

“Thank you for the kind invitation.” I said as we entered through the large turquoise door, the feeling of spaciousness was overwhelming. The entryway contained Amethyst geodes, sentinels guarding the front entrance. Large skylights filled the space with soft light.

“Welcome to my humble abode Adamas,” said Peridot with a sly grin.

It was a three-story, three-bedroom home built into the hillside; we entered on the second level, hardwood floors, and a spiral staircase near the fireplace. Books festooned the shelves, meticulously organized and carefully labeled.

“So this is your Petite Versailles,” I remarked with a smile.

Peridot nodded, “Why yes . . . I find it very comfortable.”

Peridot appreciated technology, nonetheless relished the smell and feel of bound leather books, his entire house a library. “During the planning my specific instructions to the architect - built in bookshelves throughout the house,” said Peridot. “This will be your room Adamas, make yourself comfortable, we will chat later this evening over dinner, to review our findings in Mumbai.”

My room was on the third level adjacent to Peridot’s study – I stopped to admire the panoramic view of the City of Angels.

Once unpacked, I couldn’t help but wander into his study out of sheer curiosity. On the shelves were mineral specimens, gemstones, and carvings. One piece in particular caught my eye. It was a rather large ring with an intense yellowish green stone. I examined it carefully. This is a spectacular gem, I must ask about it later.

During our many video chats in recent years I could now see how he was able to always stay within the frame of the video as he moved around his office. Mounted on the walls were three webcams that appeared to use face detection technology, “Voilà . . . so that’s how he does it,” I muttered to myself.

It was a large comfortable room well illuminated with diffused light from a skylight. There were four large flat screens above an imposing oak desk. As I stood examining the room my hand caressed the office chair; it was supple chocolate brown leather exhibiting a luster much like his shoes. There was a full bar with stools in the corner, a group of matching leather chairs surrounding a round table in front of a fireplace. The west wall was a large sliding glass door that exited to an inviting deck . . . in all the most luxurious room in the house, so it seemed.

Our trip had been a long one; rather fatigued, I withdrew to my room to get in a nap . . .

Bing – bong – bing – bong, the Westminster clock chimed, it must have been about five o’clock when I awoke. Built into the nightstand was an intercom, there was a message light glowing. The text message, “Dinner at 6:00, join me in the kitchen on the first floor – Peridot.” I glanced at my phone and the same text alert was there. My phone was synchronized with the intercom system. Incredible. I tapped it to engage the digital assistant, “See you then.”

Dinner was on the table when I arrived and Peridot was seated with book in hand.

“What are you working on?”

“Just a little recreational reading, Sir Conan Doyle. I find the adventures of Mr. Holmes very enlightening. They certainly exercise the mind,” said Peridot.

"Professor, in your office I noticed a ring. It was an intense yellowish green. I suspect it was a garnet.”

"You are correct Adamas, allow me to provide you a clue. The refractive index (R.I.) of that garnet is 1.740," said Peridot. He smiled, "When we approached the house did you happen to observe the street sign and address just above the doorway.”

"Of course - 1740 Tsavorite Lane." I broke into a hearty laugh, "That's a superb Tsavorite garnet specimen of you have there professor.”

"Thank you, would you like a little wine with dinner?”

Oui, s'il vous plait - have you heard from our client in India, Mr. Kaniyar?”

Peridot looked up from his book, “Why yes, received an e-mail just this afternoon. It seems our friend, Mr. Davies, did return for the stone. He could be anywhere in the world by now. We may see his carefully-crafted doublet again I'm afraid.”

“Let’s not concern ourselves with that matter right now, enjoy your dinner . . .”

to be continued.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Yellow Legal Pad

In this episode, the Art of Refiring July 1st is staring me in the face, less than two weeks away. For years, retirement seemed like something that happened to other people. Suddenly, it's on my calendar. I've been thinking a lot about the dreaded "R-word" lately. Not because I'm worried about having enough to do. Quite the opposite. What fascinates me is this strange paradox: Why does retirement make so many of us nervous, while having a job—even one that regularly drives us crazy—somehow feels comforting? Let's be honest. Most of us spend years complaining about meetings that should have been emails, reply-all disasters, impossible deadlines, and that one coworker who insists on microwaving leftover fish in the breakroom. Yet when the idea of walking away finally arrives, we hesitate. I think I've figured out why. A career isn't just a job. It's a highly structured coping mechanism. For forty-plus years, somebody else has basically decided what I...

The Big Rip and the First Tee

The telescope (Celestron) sits quietly under its cover, temporarily blinded by Southern California's annual meteorological hostage situation – June Gloom. Somewhere above that thick gray ceiling, photons that began their journey before humans appeared are streaming across the cosmos, only to be intercepted by a marine layer that seems to have veto power over astronomy. Instead of observing the universe, I find myself imagining – The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking) by physicist Katie Mack. According to modern cosmology, the universe may eventually end in a Big Rip, a Big Crunch, Heat Death, Vacuum Decay, or some other catastrophe that sounds suspiciously like a rejected heavy-metal album title. Astrophysicists spend their careers calmly discussing the possibility that reality itself could suddenly cease to exist because a quantum field had a bad day. It's a remarkable way to start a Saturday morning. One moment you're contemplating the ultimate fate of spacetime...

Epictetus, Ego, and Acronyms

In this episode, Destroy Communication, One Three-Letter Acronym at a Time This week, I want to explore a deeply relatable, universally feared workplace character: the "know-it-all." Now, I’m not pointing fingers here. If we are being completely honest, we have all played this role. We've all uttered some version of, "Yes, absolutely, that aligns with our strategic objectives," while our internal monologue is screaming, "I don't even know what the objective is, let alone the strategy." What got me thinking about this was a chapter in Ryan Holiday's book, Wisdom Takes Work . Holiday leans on a powerful piece of Stoic truth from the ancient philosopher Epictetus: "It is impossible for a man to learn what he thinks he already knows." It's a brilliant quote that strikes right at the heart of the human ego. You can't learn what you already know, and you certainly can't learn what you pretend to know to save face. Though to be ...

The Places You'll Go . . .

Well, the time has arrived. Yes, July's drawing near, And somehow I've managed to last seven years! I've analyzed forecasts and studied the trends, While spreadsheets multiplied without seeming to end. We've planned for the sunshine, the storms, and the load, while Mother Nature kept changing the code. But through all the numbers, the forecasts, and charts, the best part of Cenergy's always been hearts. The people beside me, year after year, Made even the toughest challenges clear. To the bright, talented folks reading this today, The future is yours now—you're well on your way. And unlike my era, here's the key: You’ll work with AI just as smooth as can be. The reports that took hours may take only minutes. The models you build with intelligence in it. The data will flow faster than ever before, While AI handles tasks that are mostly a bore! But here's my advice as I head out the door: Technology changes, but people matter more. AI can predict, calcula...