cannot
now, reveal more than the barest outline of the secrets of what were without question
straightforward magical effects.
The tipping table is actually not a conjuring trick at all (although it can be presented
as one, as on this occasion). It is a little-known physical phenomenon that if ten or a
dozen people cluster around a circular wooden table, press the palms of their hands on the
surface, and are then told that soon the table will start to rotate, it is only a matter
of a minute or two before that starts to happen! Once the motion is felt, the table almost
invariably begins to tip to one side or the other. An adroitly placed foot suddenly
lifting the appropriate table leg will dramatically unbalance the table, causing it to
rear up and crash excitingly to the floor. With luck, it will take with it many of the
participants, causing surprise and excitement but not physical harm.
I need not emphasize that the table being used at my aunt's was one of the spiritist's own
props. It was constructed so that the four wooden legs connected to the central pillar in
such a way that there was room for a foot to be slipped underneath.
The cabinet manifestations can only be adumbrated here; a skilled magician may easily
escape from what appear to be irresistible bonds, especially if the ropes and knots have
been tied by two assistants. Once inside the cabinet it would be the work of a few seconds
to release himself sufficiently to make happen the otherwise perplexing display of
paranormal effects.
As for the “psychic” contacts which were the main purpose of the meeting, here too there
are standard techniques of forcing and substitution which any good magician can readily
perform.
I had gone to my aunt's house to satisfy professional curiosity, but instead, to my
eventual shame and regret, I came away with a case of righteous indignation. Standard
stage illusions had been used to gull a group of suggestible and vulnerable people. My
aunt, believing that she had heard words of comfort from her beloved husband, was so
overcome by grief that she retired immediately to her chamber. Several of the others were
almost as deeply moved by messages they had heard. Yet I knew, I alone knew, that it was
all a sham.
I felt an exhilarating sense that I could and should expose him as a charlatan, before he
did any more harm. I was tempted to confront him then and there, but I was a little
intimidated by the assured way he had performed his illusions. While he and his female
assistant were putting away their apparatus I spoke briefly to the thatch-haired young man
and was given the spiritist's business card.
Thus it was that I learned the name and style of the man who was to dog my professional
career:
Rupert Angier
Clairvoyant, Spirit Medium, Séantist
Strictest Confidence Observed
45 Idmiston Villas, London N
I was young, inexperienced, heady with what I saw as high principles, and these, to my
later chagrin, blinded me to the hypocrisy of my position. I set out to hound Mr Angier,
intent on exposing his swindles. Soon enough, by methods I need not record here, I was
able to establish where and when his next séance was to take place.
Once again it was a meeting in a private house in a suburb of London, although this time
my connection with the family (bereaved by the sudden death of the mother) was contrived.
I was able to attend only by presenting myself at the house the day before and claiming to
be an associate of Angier's whose presence had been requested by the “medium” himself. In
their all-too-evident grief the remaining family seemed hardly to care.
The next day I made sure I was in the street outside the house well before the
appointment, and thus was able to confirm that Angier's own early arrival at my aunt's
house had been no accident, and indeed was a necessary part of the preparations. I watched
Lisa Mantchev, A.L. Purol