Gold? Are you pulling my chain, Tom?” The young police commissioner sat back in his seat and exhaled long and deep.

“I’m as serious as an undertaker, Teddy,” Edison answered.

He knew how crazy it must’ve sounded. Roosevelt was not even a year in office, and here he was, getting hit with a scientific conspiracy of global proportions.

“Tesla and I began experimenting with the dissolution of tinctures several years ago when he worked for me. It started off as a bit of fun, but …” Edison carefully lowered his coffee cup to its porcelain saucer and set it on the table next to him.

Aside from his wife and Tesla, of course, no one else in the world even knew about his secret basement lab, and as nervous as Edison was about bringing in another party, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He paused for another moment, gathering his thoughts before proceeding.

“Our research was going along quite well,” Edison finally said, “until Nikola began on these wild diatribes about particle bombs and death rays. As we got closer to finding the alchemy formula, he became even more obsessed, until finally I had no choice. I had to stop funding the project. If we ever were to find the recipe, he simply couldn’t be trusted with it.”

“And how did Tesla take the news?” asked Roosevelt.

“How do you think? He went into a blinding rage, vowing to destroy my career, which I easily dismissed, of course. That is, until this detestable business with alternating currents began.” Roosevelt nodded knowingly. Edison and Tesla’s public feud about the future of electrical distribution was common knowledge, even to the most uninformed citizen.

“When he was just an engineer, I wasn’t worried. But now with George Westinghouse in the picture, paying huge royalties for these patents, I can only fear the worst.”

“So, assuming I do believe you about this alchemy business, where do I come in?” said Roosevelt, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Edison couldn’t help laughing. As a young army officer, Teddy had gained a reputation for his “cut to the chase” attitude, and meeting him now, Edison could see why.

“Tesla’s research must be stopped. At all costs. Heaven forbid this formula gets into the wrong hands. It would be a recipe for global disaster.”

“So you’re saying it exists?”

Edison shifted his eyes toward the Vesper Inn’s window. It was one of his favorite places in New York to grab a coffee and chat with one of the many artists who spent time there.

“I’m close,” he answered. “I may be one year away, I may be ten. But Tesla is a brilliant man, who’s on a mission to find the formula … and destroy me.”

“Well, Mr. Edison, I’m not one for sorcery, but you have as impeccable a reputation as any man in this great country. If you say Tesla’s work must be stopped, then that’s all there needs to be said.”

“So … what will you do?” Edison couldn’t help a nervous quiver from entering his voice.

“The less you know, the better, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a city to protect.” And with that, Roosevelt shot up from his chair, spun on his polished boot, and headed toward the door.

Edison could only sit there shaking his head in disbelief. Despite the positive outcome of this meeting, he wasn’t used to being spoken to so curtly. Perhaps what they said about this new commissioner was right. A career in politics might just suit him.

So that was it? Edison thought once Roosevelt had left. A snap of my fingers, and Tesla is finished?

The hard part now would be living with the guilt.