“What about this American, this amateur art collector, a Mr. Leyland, I believe, who contacted Monsieur Rossi? Should we not contact him as well?” was my question to Peridot as we left the outdoor cafe, headed for our rendezvous.
“My hunch is,” said Peridot, “tonight's dinner will enlighten our situation enormously.”
I simply could not imagine how crystal clear all the events that brought us to Florence would soon become. With the Arno River on our left, our early evening stroll took us past the Ponte Vecchio Bridge. We then turned north and followed the narrow cobblestones to a central roundabout with the Column of Justice (La statue de la justice) in its center. As our destination approached, I caught Peridot's glance. He appeared to recognize a man sitting at a small table, just outside the cafe, curiously looking at his phone.
Peridot walked directly over to the man, cleared his throat to get his attention, and held out his hand. “Well, Mr. Davies, how have you been. It seems we’ve just missed each other quite a few times in the past few weeks. Adamas Bontemps, meet David (Dee) Davies.” An astute observer would have seen my pupils dilate. I said nothing, just held out my hand with what must have been a bewildered look on my face. His appearance was exactly as described: medium height, strong build, a somewhat ruddy, clean-shaven face. He was dressed in a well-worn tweed suit.
Davies immediately spoke in his distinctive Welsh accent, “Peridot, my scholarly cousin, how have you been?”
What is this? My cousin? I was about to learn the full story behind the Sapphire Mystery and this adversary we had so genuinely pursued.
“It seems you’ve been up to some mischief,” Peridot remarked.
“Mischief, not at all, my cousin! We call it doing business.”
“You’re in the business of fooling clients into purchasing a ruse?
“If they so desire,” said Davies. “You would be aghast at the number of people who insist on these dazzling gemstones, but when cash crosses the counter, so to speak, they're always flabbergasted at the price. So, my forte is assembled stones that look just like the originals. There is no deception intended; I present the goods with full disclosure. Many clients don’t really know or care. People want the status and prestige that come with owning beautiful things, and my doublets fulfill that desire. They are masterpieces. Take this one for example.” He pulled a parcel of paper from his pocket and skillfully opened it to reveal a beautiful Sapphire. Exactly like the one we had seen in India and now in Florence.
“We have many of these,” he said, “they are our most popular piece. Have you noticed the attention to detail? These specimens contain a thin piece of natural corundum with unaltered low-relief mineral crystals. Some have intact two-phase inclusions, straight, angular, hexagonal growth zoning. The finest Synthetic Sapphire Doublets ever crafted.”
We were now seated with Davies, staring at La statue de la justice, and I could not hold back my burning question. “What about the Ceylon Sapphire from the Boutique in Paris?”
Davies confidently looked at me and simply said, “That was a sensationalized blog post by a hacker in one of those online gemstone forums. You surely don’t believe what you read in those forums, do you? Ambiguous news of that sort is but a mere flyspeck on the window of the world to the media. Very few pay any attention. It’s all a bunch of swill.”
With a lowering of his brow and the focus of his eyes, I could see the wheels of Peridot's mind turning with a calm disposition. Peridot interrupted. “Your trip to India? The lab reports? You were hired to personally deliver the stone, obtain a report, and then return it to the boutique’s owner? And why the fake report?”
“Precisely, my scholarly cousin. During that trip, a young client of mine wanted to obtain a replica of that very stone. He paused a moment and smiled, “We just seemed to miss one another that day, didn’t we. Ah - the report, yes, customers in today's market insist on some kind of official documentation. I’m sure you noticed that all the stone's properties were accounted for in that document. Why spoil it with nasty comments about being assembled? It is a masterpiece in craftsmanship.”
“Why then, the donation to the Uffizi?” I asked?
“Let me explain it this way,” Davies said. “You’re familiar with the Black Prince Ruby in the Tower of London, I’m sure. For years, no one suspected (or cared) it was anything other than a fine Ruby until some meddling do-gooder tested the stone to discover it was a Red Spinel. My question is this: What changed after it was determined to be a Spinel? Did its intrinsic value change? Did they remove it from the Imperial State Crown? Did the firstborn heir, Edward, the Black Prince, who brought the stone back to England in the late 14th century, have his name stricken from the Royal lineage? Nothing changed. It’s still on display in the Crown Jewel Collection and proudly worn on special occasions.”
We heard a faint beep. Davies quickly glanced at his phone, then continued, “As a gemstone expert, you realize that sizable natural Ceylon Sapphires are quite scarce. Much like thin slices of Black Opals are preserved in triplets, we are able to preserve thin sections of natural Sapphire and make them salable by preserving them as Sapphire Synthetic Sapphire Doublets. It is known in some circles that the Uffizi has a gem collection, the Opificio delle Pietre Dure, officially founded in 1588 by Ferdinando I de’ Medici. The Museum is dedicated to the traditional art of the Florentine mosaic in semi-precious stones. My donation to that collection will preserve our crafted stone for all time.”
Peridot glanced at his watch. “I believe we are scheduled to meet Mr. Richard Leyland for dinner.”
“As am I,” said Davies. “Some confusion about a Peridot, I believe?”
We entered the dining establishment, and the maître d' graciously escorted the three of us to a table, where two men stood to greet us as we approached...
. . . to be continued.
. . . to be continued.
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