Chapter 2

Introducing James (Jim) Schneider and Frank Toliver...

Jim has the narrative.

My friends call me Jim, but my full name is James Schneider with no middle name. Some people, mainly women, think my friend Frank Toliver and I are woman haters because we enslave women. That is not exactly true. They just don’t understand the circumstances that led to Frank’s women and my women being our companions.

I was twenty-eight years of age, and my weight has varied between a hundred and eighty and a hundred and ninety pounds, since I graduated from high school. At five foot nine inches tall and with a slight build, that places me on the chubby side of athletic. My short black hair, brown eyes, acne, and personality don’t add much to me being attractive to women. In fact, most women consider me to be an unappealing nerd. People have a similar opinion of Frank, but he is a science geek.

Women don’t seem to see much difference between a nerd and a science geek

I can thank my best friend Frank for the women in my life for he was the one who introduced me to Chocolateen.

Doctor William E. Smith, a Doctor of Organic Chemistry, created Chocolateen in his home’s basement laboratory. Doctor Smith, Doc to his associates and friends, worked as a research chemist for Gilmore’s Specialty Chocolates. Gilmore’s specializes in developing unique chocolate products.

The chocolate industry wanted to create an affordable, low-calorie chocolate that had the taste, consistency, and after-taste of regular chocolate. Five years before I learned of Chocolateen, Gilmore’s started their research program to create an affordable, tasty, low-calorie chocolate. Two years later, they had made no significant progress on reaching their goal.

Doc was interested in, but not a part of the research program. He suggested a different approach to the problem. Gilmore’s researchers did not believe Doc’s approach to be a viable means of attaining their goal.

Doc’s employment contract allowed him patent everything he developed privately if Gilmore’s was not interest in his line of research. Their refusal to follow Doc’s suggested line of research, allowed Doc to pursue his idea as a privately-funded research program. To ensure that he could profit from his private research, Doc asked for a letter stating that the company did not want to pursue Doc’s proposed line of research. Doc’s line of research was defined in the letter the company gave him.

Two years of research and experimentation in his basement during evenings and weekends resulted in a product that inhibited the uptake of digested sugars in lab animals. Adding the product to an animal’s food resulted in the animal only absorbing about fifteen percent of the digested sugars. Doc named the product Chocolateen, and he planned to license its use to Gilmore’s. The small animal testing that Doc conducted in his basement indicated that Chocolateen was harmless, even when consumed in high concentrations over a long period of time.

Doc and his lawyer, Kirk Jonas, approached Gilmore’s and negotiated a contract. The company would finance and support the testing necessary for obtaining FDA approval for Chocolateen. When Chocolateen received FDA approval, Doc would grant Gilmore’s an exclusive twenty-year license to use the product in the manufacture of chocolate candies. Gilmore’s would pay Doc a license fee of one million dollars per year. During the final year of the license, Doc would enter into negotiations to sell the rights to Chocolateen to Gilmore’s for its use in manufacturing chocolates. The contract did not prohibit Doc from using Chocolateen for other purposes; such as, an additive to other sugar-based products.

Gilmore’s could conceivably gross an additional thirty million dollars per year, or more, by using Chocolateen in their chocolate products. One might wonder about Doc’s willingness to settle for just one million dollars per year. The answer is, Doc was a smart businessman who needed financial assistance in obtaining FDA approval for Chocolateen. Doc believed that after gaining FDA approval, he could market Chocolateen in other commercial fields and make close to a billion dollars a year.

Gilmore’s had employed Doc for eighteen years, and his coworkers considered him a crotchety old man who had peculiar habits. One of his peculiarities was to keep all of his research notes in an engineering notebook. He carried the notebook with him all the time while at work, and he took it home with him at night. Doc’s personality and poor people skills made it difficult for him to keep lab assistants. However, my friend Frank had worked as his assistant for over a year, and they got on fine.

Frank and I met in college three months after his parents died in a car crash. Mine had died over two years before his. We became best friends and roommates. We continued our relationship as roommates after I graduated from college. Frank obtained his Master’s Degree in Organic Chemistry while he worked for Gilmore’s, and started to work on his Doctorate in Organic Chemistry. His job gave him some practical experience in addition to a paycheck. I suspect Doc’s personality and background were similar to Frank’s, and Doc viewed himself as Frank’s mentor.

Other than Doc, I was Frank’s only close friend. When I met him, he was six foot one inch in height, skinny, and clumsy. While not handsome, he had that aura that many women find appealing. Unfortunately, his personality was a turn-off for most women, so his relationships did not usually survive the first date. Most people considered me a nerd and Frank a science geek; we only had a few casual friends and no long-term girlfriends.

Frank’s friendship with Doc began shortly after he went to work at Gilmore’s as Doc’s lab assistant. Doc and Frank both loved video games and would compete against each other at Doc’s house on weekends. Frank introduced me to Doc once, when he dropped something off at Doc’s home. Judging from Doc’s reaction, I don’t think Doc liked me. But, Frank said Doc was like that all the time when meeting new people.

Frank and I often talked about our day after work, and he occasionally mentioned the work he was doing on Chocolateen. One day, Frank told me he and Doc reached a major milestone in their research project. They successfully completed Chocolateen’s small animal stage of FDA testing. Doc reported the results to his management, and they would soon start the human testing phase of the FDA approval process.

During the first round of human tests, three side effects showed up: Chocolateen had a bitter after taste, it stimulated a person’s libido, and it was addictive with nasty withdrawal symptoms. Doc solved the after taste problem. Gilmore’s marketing group believed the stimulated libido was a positive trait, and upper management believed Chocolateen would be would be acceptable to the FDA once the addictive characteristics of Chocolateen were eliminated.

I lost my job and had been looking for a new one. It was late Sunday afternoon and I was involved in my job search activities, when Frank arrived at our apartment.

He started the story of his day with, “Jim, Doc is dead.”

I was dumbfounded, and the only thing I could mumble was, “Dead! What happened?”

I sensed that my roommate needed to say more, so I listened to his story while we drank several beers.

“I was over at Doc’s place and we were playing Call of Duty. Doc was sitting in his recliner talking with me as we played. I saw his face contort with pain, and his hands clutched at his chest. Then his hands dropped into his lap. I took the controller out of his hand and asked him what was wrong.”

“I could barely hear it when Doc gasped, ‘Heart attack.’

“This was the first time Doc had an attack when I was with him.

“Relax Doc. I’ll call 9-1-1, and they’ll take care of you.”

“I tried to keep him from talking, but Doc said, ‘No, not this time, Frank. This is a major attack. My doctor said my heart was almost gone. Doubted I’d survive a severe attack. I’m not going to make it this time, Frank.’

“I didn’t pay any attention to him, and called 9-1-1.”

Frank paused for a sip of his beer and then continued, “While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, Doc wouldn’t stop talking to me.”

I could see tears on Frank’s cheeks as he talked, “I felt useless, Jim. Doc was dying. I wanted to help him, but there was nothing I could do.”

“Jim, Doc needed to say something. However, his mind was wandering, and his comments were incomplete and fragmented so badly it was difficult to understand his meaning. In addition, the longer he talked the weaker his voice became.’

“I could hear him say, ‘Frank, you’re the son I never had. Relatives dead. Don’t know where they are. Don’t care. Wealthy man. To hell with state. Talk to Kirk. Kirk Jonas has key for you. Journals yours. Read ‘em. Finish research.’

“Relax, Doc. Just hold on, the paramedics are coming.”

Frank looked at me and said, “Doc’s voice was just a gasping whisper, but he wouldn’t stop talking. He said, ‘No. Not last. Must understand. Chocolateen priceless. Talk Kirk. Read journals. Chocolateen in journals. On basement computer. Don’t talk Chocolateen to anyone. Read journal.’

“I will, Doc.”

I could see the tears running down Frank’s cheeks as he said, “Doc couldn’t get his breath ... I held his hand, and told him I understood and how much he meant to me. His hand went limp, and he stopped breathing. I knew he had died as I talked to him. There was nothing I could do, and I couldn’t stop myself. I just kept talking to him.”

By early evening, Frank and I were three sheets to the wind. Since neither of us was fit to drive, we ordered in some pizza. As we ate our pizza, Frank finished telling me about his day.

“I sat in the chair holding his Doc’s hand and talking to him, while I waited for the paramedics. A paramedic unit arrived then a police cruiser. I took the paramedics to the living room where Doc sat in his recliner.

“They confirmed that Doc was dead. The first group of police officers entered the house while the paramedics were checking Doc. The officers asked me to wait on the front porch, so they and the paramedics could do their thing. While sitting on the porch, I saw the paramedics leave and a second group of officers arrive.

“About twenty minutes later, the coroner’s vehicle arrived. The police ushered the coroner into the house. While the coroner was preparing to remove Doc’s body from the house, two officers joined me on the porch. The other officers remained in the house doing their thing.

“The police asked me to describe my day’s events. I told them what had happened to the point where I had been asked to wait on the porch. When I finished answering a few more questions, the police went back inside. Five minutes later a different officer joined me and asked me to go over my statement again. So I did. A short while later, the coroner left with Doc’s body.

“Evidently, the police were going through the house looking for any indication of foul play while I was on the porch waiting for the coroner. They found an ‘In Case of My Death’ letter on Doc’s desk. The letter directed the person opening the letter to contact his lawyer in case he died. It provided the lawyer’s name, address, and phone numbers. An officer called the lawyer about ten minutes before the coroner left. The lawyer arrived ten minutes after the coroner left with Doc’s body.

“When Doc’s lawyer, Kirk Jonas, arrived, the police briefed him on what they knew about Doc’s death. They told him they had not seen any signs of foul play. They also said they would have to wait for the coroner’s report to be certain, but it appeared to them that Doc died of natural causes. When the police told him about Frank’s statement, Kirk took note of my name. While the police finished processing the scene, Kirk joined me on the porch.

“He said to me, ‘Mister Toliver, I’m Mister Smith’s lawyer Kirk Jonas. I’m sorry we have to meet this way, but I need to speak with you if you feel up to it right now.’

“Okay. Toward the end, Doc mentioned your name. What do you need to know, Mister Jonas? He said, ‘Well to start with, call me Kirk. Mister Smith hired me to represent your legal interests after his death.’

“That surprised me, Jim. I said, ‘I go by Frank. What do you mean by represent my legal interests?’ Kirk took a few moments to respond and then he said, ‘I prepared a Living Trust for Mister Smith and in it he named you as his sole beneficiary. The estate is rather large and complex, so Doc felt that you might need legal advice.’

“The police came out to let Kirk know they would be finished in about fifteen minutes. They told me I could go home when I wanted to leave. When the police went back inside, Kirk gave me his business card.

“He said, ‘This is a poor time and place to discuss everything. Can you come by my office at 9:00 tomorrow morning?’

“I told Kirk that I would be there. The police left as we finished talking. I helped Kirk to lock up the house and then he left to go home, and I came home.”

When Frank finished telling me about his day, he asked me to go to Kirk’s office with him. Frank’s wanting me to go with him wasn’t an unusual request, for we supported each other.

Frank and I were more than best friends, we considered ourselves to be very close brothers. What I owned was Frank’s, and what Frank owned was mine. Although, we did give each other the courtesy of asking to use each other’s belongings. We shared everything except our lady friends, when we had them. The only reason we didn’t share our girlfriends was they made it clear that they weren’t into group sex or swapping. However, there were a couple of one-night stands with very intoxicated young ladies that evolved into a ménage à trois.

We had one hell of a hangover Monday morning from all the beer we drank as Frank told me about Doc’s death. We drank lots of coffee, ate breakfast to settle our stomachs, and swallowed some aspirin to help our hangovers. Frank called Kirk’s office to confirm his 9:00 AM appointment, and he called Gilmore’s to let them know he would be late getting to work due to personal business. The department secretary took the message, and said she would take care of it.

Frank was off in his own world mourning the loss of Doc. He didn’t think of it at the time, but no one at the office knew Doc was dead.

We arrived at Kirk Jonas’s office, and Kirk impressed me favorably. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, average height and build, red hair, and blue eyes. He had a pleasant manner, a firm handshake, and he spoke with a smooth, low-pitched tone. Based on Frank’s earlier description, Kirk seemed to be an easygoing person. His red hair and something about his personality made me suspect that he was hell-on-wheels when angry.

Kirk said, “I’m sorry about you losing your friend, Mister Toliver, ah ... Frank. Doc and I were close friends in addition to me being his lawyer. I’m beyond stunned, so I think I know what you are feeling.”

“I recently prepared a Living Trust for Doc. The Trust names you as Doc’s sole beneficiary. That means you will inherit his entire estate, assuming the Trust is not successfully challenged.

“The Trust documents state that all of his immediate known relatives predeceased him. Doc thought he may still have some distant relatives still alive, but he didn’t know who they are. If by some chance, one of those people were to learn of his death, he did not want them to receive any portion of his estate. He had me prepare the Trust disinheriting everyone not specifically identified in the Trust as one of his beneficiaries.