Skip to main content

Consulting

Still reeling from the shock that Dee Davies and Peridot were cousins, we were cordially greeted by Professor Rossi (Peppe) of the Uffizi, and Mr. Richard Leyland, art collector, in the dining establishment across the street from the Column of Justice in Florence.

“Good evening gentleman,” said Peridot calmly.

As we took our seats my thoughts flashed back to how my alliance with Hercule Peridot had begun. Serendipity, maybe, or was it kismet, as they say in the gem trade?

Not long after I was hired to teach at the school of Gemology in 1987, Professor Peridot completed his sabbatical there and resumed his duties at the University in Los Angeles.

Peridot and I had kept in contact since our meeting. We had become good friends through our shared hobbies of gemstones and computers. In those early days, much of our correspondence was through a bulletin board service I had built, using hardware which now seems archaic; an 80386 computer with 2,400 baud dial-up modems. As the years went by communications technology improved dramatically. The breakthrough came when Steve Jobs of Apple Computer, on June 29, 2007 launched the first generation iPhone.

Peridot had retired from his duties as a tenured professor of Geologic Sciences at the local University. In his retirement, the demand for his services, as academic lecturer and gem expert exploded. He was barraged with requests from clients to serve as their personal shopper.

Peridot encouraged me to complete a degree in business with a focus on e-Commerce. Throughout the curriculum we debated revolutionary new discoveries; the changing technology, and tips for the efficient use of computers and smartphones. These discussions helped solidify my philosophy, you master what you teach. It was during a severe economic downturn, that I resigned my position as an instructor of Gemology. The workforce had been cut by well over 15 percent, management took a severe cut in pay, yes - times were tough.

My livelihood was now solely based on free-lance writing and customized gem presentations to local businesses. People labeled me a consultant but I’ve always been reluctant to adopt that abhorred expression. This springs from my belief that there is no shared risk with a client as a consultant. The value-add comes from the planting of ideas, awareness, and excitement engendered by the rare and beautiful products of nature we present to appreciative audiences.

My mind snapped back to the present when Professor Rossi completed his formal, yet cordial introductions. Quietly, almost magically Mr. Leyland drew a rather large parcel from his coat pocket that contained yet another mystery.

Peridot spoke first. “Gentlemen, this trip to Florence, among other concerns, was initiated by an e-mail from Dr. Kampf, the curator of the Natural History Museum in Los Angeles. His claim that a 122-carat Peridot from St. John’s Island was “borrowed" from the Museum. Any comments?”

“Yes, Mr. Peridot,” said Leyland in his calm demeanor. As an exhibitor of fine art, annually we host collections for sale. As an added attraction fine gemstones are displayed, on loan mostly, from various museums around the world.” He opened the parcel and behold, a lovely yellowish Green gem appeared.

“May I examine it?” asked Peridot.

“Before you do,” interrupted Dee Davies, “Mr. Leyland I believe you have another parcel with a stone that looks identical to this beauty.”

With that Professor Rossi spoke, “I believe you’re talking about this,” as he drew a parcel from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Dr. Kampf sent his museum piece to my office at the Uffizi. Why? To minimize VAT and import duties, of course. It’s very difficult to import rare and valuable gemstones into this country unless it can be demonstrated that they are not for resale.” 

“Adamas, would you examine the stone Peppe has while I take a look at Mr. Leyland’s parcel?”

“Absolutely" I replied. My immediate suspicion since Davies was involved, this had to be a synthetic spinel triplet. With care I directed my penlight through the girdle plane. But something in my mind kept nagging at me, it is very difficult to create synthetic spinel in Peridot green. Gemologists’ know that this particular assembled stone exhibits a colorless glue plane when a light is directed through the girdle. However, to my surprise this one did not . . .

With a bewildered look I turned to Peridot for guidance.

He spoke quietly to me. “Remember my boy, innocent until proven guilty. Natural, until proven synthetic. Do not let your suspicions get the best of you. Deduction is the synthesis of observation, art, and science. You have a quick eye for color. However you must never simply rely on general impressions - concentrate on the details.”

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️  In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

Pushing the Pause Button

In this episode, Pushing the Pause Button: Stepping Off the Treadmill Hello, friends — If you're reading this, I'm already off the grid. Today begins a much-needed vacation, and for the next few weeks, On the Fly is taking a break right along with me. For a long time, my inner voice has said, 'Keep every commitment, no matter what.' That's meant early mornings, long days, and a calendar packed with posts, podcasts, and projects I couldn't seem to say no to. I've been trying to be the tireless workhorse—but that kind of grind doesn't end well. Lately, I've noticed I'm not quite myself—shorter fuse, louder sighs, and a few too many grumbles (Lori deserves a medal). That's when you know it's time to hit pause before the spark burns out. So, I'm stepping back to rest, recharge, and remember what it feels like to not live by the next deadline: no tech, no to-do lists, just some space to breathe. Thank you, truly, for all your support and ...

Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.   Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

Our Journey to Avignon

🇫🇷 Lost in Transition: Our Journey to Avignon (Part 1) When everything that can go wrong—does—sometimes grace still finds you. Our Monday morning trip began on the quiet island of Noirmoutier , where salt marshes and sea breezes whisper of simpler days. From there, our early morning drive was uneventful; we arrived at the Nantes station with plenty of time to spare. From Nantes to Paris Montparnasse, everything went smoothly—so we thought, until it didn't. That's when things started to unravel. If you've never traveled the Paris Metro , imagine a vast underground maze pulsing beneath the city—corridors twisting into one another, trains roaring in and out of the dark, staircases that rise and fall like riddles. It's efficient, yes—but only if you know where you're going. We had over an hour and a half to make our next train to Avignon —plenty of time. Or so we believed. We needed to reach the Gare de Lyon station, where our TGV (high-speed train) was headed south...