Home of The Stone Detective
The Case of the Polka – Dot Marble
A Call to the Stone Detective Agency
Business had been slow that Tuesday morning, which was just fine by me. Flo kept my coffee cup full while I worked my way through the crossword.
“You know,” Flo said as she wiped down the counter, “I never understood why people pay all that money for white marble.”
“Why’s that?”
“You spill coffee on it.”
The old Admiral folded his newspaper.
“That’s because you’re supposed to drink the coffee, not pour it on the floor.”
Flo shot him a look.
“You stick to sailing.”
“I was Navy.”
“Exactly.”
Just then my phone rang.
“Stone Detective Agency.”
The caller sounded worried.
“My white marble floor has little white dots all over it. They’re spreading. Is my floor diseased?”
I smiled.
“I’ll be there.”
Arriving on the Scene
A few minutes later, Woody, my faithful old wood-paneled station wagon, carried me across town to a beautiful home with polished white marble floors.
The homeowner was waiting nervously.
“I’ve had three contractors here.”
“What did they say?”
Three contractors, three different theories:
One blamed the installer.
One blamed the cleaning company.
The last one said the marble was defective.
“And what do you think?”
“I just want to know what’s happening.”
Examining the Evidence
At first glance the floor looked beautiful.
Then I saw them.
Tiny white spots. Hundreds of them. Some no bigger than the head of a pin. Others about the size of a pencil eraser.
The homeowner pointed toward the hallway.
“They just keep appearing.”
“Do they?”
“At least I think they do.”
I knelt down for a closer look. The spots weren’t stains. They weren’t deposits. They weren’t coating failures. They were actually lighter than the surrounding polished surface.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Out came my magnifier. The polish was disturbed only in the tiny circular areas. No scratches. No chemicals. No etching. Just little bright white spots.
I smiled.
“I think I know what we’re looking at.”
A Theory Takes Shape
The homeowner looked hopeful.
“You do?”
“I’ve seen this before.”
“In fact, I’ve seen it hundreds of times.”
“They’re called stun marks.”
“Stun marks?”
“Exactly.”
Just then my phone buzzed. It was Flo.
“Well?”
“I think I’ve solved it.”
The Admiral’s voice suddenly interrupted.
“I’ve got it figured out.”
“You do?”
“Woodpeckers.”
“Woodpeckers?”
“They’re pecking the floor while nobody’s looking.”
Flo laughed so hard she almost dropped the coffee pot.
“I’ll let you know if we find any.”
Cracking the Case
Back to the investigation. I asked the homeowner a simple question.
“Do you have children?”
“Two boys.”
“They play sports?”
“Baseball.”
Now we were getting somewhere.
“What kind of shoes do they wear in the house?”
He hesitated.
“They usually kick them off.”
“Usually?”
“Well…”
I noticed the pause.
“Sometimes they forget.”
“Yes.”
“Do they happen to wear metal cleats?”
His eyes got wide.
“They do.”
The Science Behind the Spots
I walked over to one of the larger white spots.
“The metal cleat strikes the polished marble with tremendous force.”
“But it doesn’t leave a scratch.”
“It actually crushes the crystal structure beneath the surface.”
“So that’s what the white spots are?”
“Exactly.”
“The impact fractures the microscopic crystals inside the marble.”
“The damaged area scatters light differently than the surrounding polished surface.”
“That’s why the spots appear white.”
“So they’re inside the stone?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t wash them off.”
“You can’t polish them away with household products.”
“They’re impact damage.”
The homeowner thought for a moment.
“My youngest likes to run through the house after practice.”
I smiled.
“Mystery solved.”
Case Closed at the Diner
A few days later I stopped by the Diner. Flo poured another cup before I even sat down.
“So what caused the little white dots?”
“Baseball.”
The Admiral looked over the newspaper.
“I knew it.”
“You did?”
“I’ve always said baseball was dangerous.”
“To marble floors?”
“To marble floors.”
Flo shook her head.
“I’ll never understand you two.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
I took another sip of coffee. Some mysteries are complicated. This wasn’t one of them.
Sometimes the smallest clue…is standing in the hallway wearing cleats.
Another mystery solved…with a little detective work, a lot of experience, and another cup of Flo’s coffee.
