Peppe

An anomaly that often struck me about the peculiar manner of my friend Hercule Peridot was the precision of his methods, yet the impulsive nature of his personality. Still, somewhat early morning, I carefully descended the hotels narrow staircase. To my surprise, found Peridot sipping coffee in the gathering room. He was impeccably dressed; a fine silk vest, dashing red necktie, and his shoes their customary adamantine luster.

“What a marvelous view!”

Ponte Vecchio Bridge

“Yes, yes indeed, this splendid morning, we find ourselves in the heart of the city center, on the Arno River. He motioned to the window, “the famous Ponte Vecchio Bridge. Join me for breakfast, my boy.” said Peridot, as he waved his hand over our Petit-déjeuner. “We have a tasty selection of cheese, and pastries. With a theatrical motion he kissed the fingers on his right hand, “And the coffee is simply superb. What could be better, I believe the Italians call it La Dolce Vita, the sweet life."

“Hercule, it’s difficult for me to believe we’re in Florence. Just the other day, Tsavorite Lane and voila, from what seems but a whim after reading about the birth of the Renaissance.

My friend simply smiled and said, “The wonders of modern air travel, Adamas. This morning we have an appointment with a former student of mine, Renaldo Rossi, managing director of the Uffizi Galley,” said my colleague.

“What is our assignment?

Peridot gathered himself, “Monsieur Rossi would like us to examine the stone the museum received as a possible donation for the gallery exhibits. He posted an e-mail, just last week. One of the very reasons we find ourselves in Florence today."

“Who was the donor?”

“An anonymous benefactor,” said Peridot.

“The stone?”

“He did not say, I suspect however, it may be one of two stones, we will see upon arrival.”

We finished our breakfast. I excused myself to complete my morning preparations. Whenever Peridot and I engaged clients it was routine that I sport a bow tie.

Palazzo Vecchio

The Uffizi Gallery was a short walk from our hotel. It was a another fine clear day in Tuscany. With a song in our hearts and a smile on our face we strolled to the Palazzo Vecchio and came face-to-face with two sculptures. The famous David, a masterpiece of Renaissance sculpture created between 1501 and 1504, from the maestro - Michelangelo. And Hercules and Cacus by the Florentine artist Baccio Bandinelli (1525–1534). Somewhat confused and taken aback, “Why would these master works of art be exposed to the weather?” I asked Peridot.

“Not at all - Mon ami, the originals are held in the Galleria dell’Accademia - we will visit later.”

We paused for a moment to admire the statues, feeling quite giddy, “Hercule, this may sound silly but, why, would anyone donate a gemstone to the Uffizi? They exhibit no gem collection.”

“There must be another motive, that I, Hercule Peridot, must discover!

As we approached the museum, “Parbleu, we will never get in,” I exclaimed, “look at the queue, it’s quite long.

Peridot calmly marched past the line to a side door and introduced me to a scholarly gentleman. He was tall and slim, with blue eyes, an inviting clean-shaven face; he was causally dressed, wearing a cardigan sweater, casual slacks, and fine Italian leather shoes. “Adamas Bontemps, meet one of my outstanding students, Professor Renaldo Rossi,” said Peridot.

“The pleasure is mine,” as I bowed in respect to the elder gentleman.

“No need for such formalities monsieur, my friends call me Peppe, and any friend of Professor Peridot is a friend of mine.” He said. “How have you been Professor Peridot - he winked - have you scheduled a visit to our ciabattino for your new shoes?”

“Not this trip,” Peridot commented with his usual grin. “As you can see, as he extended a foot, these have lasted quite well. The university research department has asked me to test a new impregnated flexible diamond thin film polymer. It is an invaluable time saver, no need to polish them daily.”

Ahhhh . . . that explains the diamond-like adamantine luster, I thought to myself.

"Charming," Rossi commented, “Please come in, before you experience our galleries, I want you to see the stone that was donated.”

Peridot chimed in; “The benefactor, please describe him?”

“Absolutely - he was medium height, strong build, a swarthy complexion, somewhat ruddy clean shaven face, by his accent I would say he was a Welsh gentleman - a rather talkative sort of fellow.”

“That’s our man, it seems we’re always just one step behind him,” I exclaimed.

We entered Professor Rossi’s office, he briskly walked up to his rather thrifty desk, opened the top left drawer, and pulled out a blue pouch. He handed the parcel to Peridot, “What do you make of this?”

As Peridot removed the contents, the look on my face must have been ghastly, “Can it be?”

“Yes, as I suspected,” exclaimed Peridot – “This is none other than the Sapphire Synthetic Sapphire Doublet we recently examined in Mumbai. This carefully crafted ruse has made its way into your hands, I’m afraid, Peppe.”

In my confusion, “Tiens?” How can this be?

Peridot held up his right index finger, a hint of the lecturer crept into his tone, “We review the facts! My friends, a Kashmir Sapphire was switched from a boutique in Paris. That stone lacked a pedigree, we saw Dee Davies at the airport in Mumbai, intent on obtaining a lab report, the potential buyer a collector in India. Foiled by Hercule Peridot, Davies did not complete the sale, consequently returned to collect the stone. Peppe have you had contact with anyone regarding the movement of any gemstones?” asked Peridot.

“As a matter of fact, yes, there was a dapper gentleman, spoke Italian quite well but appeared to be an American. Claims to be an amateur art collector. He contacted me wondering if we ever received donations of gems, knowing that our gallery does not have a collection. He exhibits his personal collection in hotels.”

“Did he happen to say anything about recent objects offered for his collection?”

"Yes, he did, mentioned something about - a Peridot,” said Rossi, “that got my attention - that’s why I e-mailed you professor Peridot.”

Peridot continued, "My congratulations Peppe, my recommendation is to phone or text this donor and let him know you are not interested in this stone.” Peridot tapped his chin deep in thought, “Where do you suppose this doublet will turn up next?”

… To be continued.