The Patent

The Patent

“Brilliant, John.” The man guffawed with delight, “You and I will make a fortune.” He continued to study the documents muttering words of praise and shaking his head in disbelief.

            John sat opposite -watching the portly man stroke his finely groomed beard- feeling little more than disdain. “You and I.” He repeated composedly, “I came to your office for a patent not a partnership.”

            There was a twinkle in the man’s eye as he responded, “It may not have been your object in coming to me but then here we are.” He straightened the documents on the desk before him before continuing, he was choosing his words carefully. “I am not asking, John. I know the unspeakable things you did to come to this conclusion. The experiments and the bribes. I’ll wager no officer of the law would lose a wink of sleep after putting you away.”

            John’s breath remained steady, he did not blink. “I suppose we could come to some sort of agreement. Twenty percent of the profits--”

            “"will go to you.” The man finished coolly. His eyes met John’s, begging him to challenge his obviously superior opponent.

            “You believe you can take eighty percent of my…” John trailed off as he watched the man shake his head deliberately. It was obviously a warning. “I see.”

            “Do we have a deal then?”

            “I believe we do.” John reached out to grab the man’s hand, giving it a firm shake. There was a joy that radiated from the man that John simply could not absorb, as much as he tried. “I knew we would come to an agreement.” He said with a smile, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a bottle of scotch. “A celebratory drink? I saved it for just this occasion.”

            “I will never turn down a good scotch.” The man said as he fetched two glasses. “You know me well, friend.” He handed one glass to John and kept the other for himself.

            “I do.” John replied as he poured their glasses. “It is the best I own, enjoy it.” He brought the glass to his lips but did not drink, instead he watched his friend.

            The man took a swig and sighed, “Lily had me stop drinking, said it would--” He coughed, “It’s a bit--”

            Retching and foaming, the man fell over. He tried hard to catch his breath but the more he air he forced into his lungs, the more he coughed.

            John spilled his scotch onto the floor where the man’s had fallen. He then collected the documents and the bottle and glass. After one last look at the man lying on the floor, John left the office. He flashed a grin to the man’s secretary and walked into the cold night.