Darren Craske - The equivoque principle

The Warden scratched at his head, flakes of dandruff falling like snow onto his shoulders. 'You don't mean ol' Tommy Hawkspear, do you?' he questioned.

'Yes, that's the one. I believe he must have escaped about five or six days ago.'

A broad smile appeared on the Warden's round and pink face, his chilblained cheeks littered with fine red veins like centipedes. He pushed his black cap further back on his head and poked at his temples. 'You trying to test me marbles, fella? Or you 'aving yourself a little prank at me expense, eh?' he asked merrily. 'Mate, Tommy Hawkspear didn't escape! He was bloody released!' chortled the Warden. 'Just the other day, in fact, an' a right to do that was, an' all.'

'Released?' said Quaint sharply. 'But I thought he was supposed to be imprisoned for life? Two murders apparently-his brother and sister.'

'Well, yeah-supposedly! But he got a Stay of Absolution, didn't he! Lucky sod too, 'cos he weren't makin' many friends 'ere, let me tell you.'

'A Stay of Absolution? What's that?'

'Ah, it's what we call it when we get a priest in 'ere to request a prisoner's release,' said Melbury. 'They come in, tryin' to get the crims to join their bloody flock. Only so they can score extra points with 'im upstairs, I reckon. Repent and all your sins will be washed away, and all that guff! A police constable brought the release order with him by hand and, like I said, Hawkspear was one lucky bastard.' Melbury leaned back in his creaking seat, taking a sip of rum. 'Like he was gettin' the right royal treatment, it was!'

Quaint's eyes flared like black flames. 'Warden, it's vital that I track down exactly who sanctioned that prisoner's release. Do you think you can help me with that?'

Melbury nodded slowly. 'Oh, aye, for a small fee, maybe I can, mate.'

'A small fee?' asked Quaint cautiously. 'How much?'

'Not money! I'm talking about your magic tricks! I've always had a fascination with you blokes who can perform such feats. I wonder…would you mind teaching me a few things-just for fun, like-I ain't about to try and compete with you or 'owt!'

Quaint laughed. 'In return for a look over your release files? Well…I suppose that is a fair trade, although we illusionists do have a strict code of ethics, you understand. I could tell you-but then you would be sworn to secrecy, you cannot divulge secrets of the magic order to a non-magician…Deal?'

Melbury spat into his palm and thrust out his hand. 'Deal!'

'Excellent, Warden,' cheered Quaint. 'Do you have any playing cards at hand?'

A few minutes later, Cornelius Quaint was sitting opposite Warden Melbury across a round wooden table. Melbury was practically salivating, wiping his bristly face with his sleeve, eager to gain an insight into the spellbinding world of the illusionist. His eyes flicked from Quaint to the table, to the pack of playing cards in his hand, back to Quaint's face. Like an expectant puppy waiting patiently for a bone, he sat bolt upright in the chair, panting heavily.

'Warden…this trick is called "The Equivoque Principle", and its secret is only known to a few souls upon this earth!' Quaint said, drumming up an air of mystery for the susceptible Warden's benefit.

'Oh, aye?' asked Melbury. 'And this…EK…WE…VOKE…'

'Equivoque, yes.'

'Yep, that's it! A good 'un, is it?'

'A good 'un?' asked Quaint, placing his hand upon his chest, displaying his pride for the illusion. 'Sir, it is simply the best!'

'So what does it do then?' the hungry Warden asked.

'It is a lesson in the gift of misdirection, Warden…and you will have no protection over its power. The Equivoque Principle, as it is known, was first performed at the turn of the century by Chinese sailors, and then later adopted by my fellow illusionists for the purposes of astonishing entertainment,' explained Quaint, and he placed the full deck of cards flat on the table. 'You will be bound to obey my unspoken commands, and present to me everything that I desire to know. Interested?' Quaint took the anxious look of stupendous excitement on Melbury's face as confirmation.

'Am I ever!' cheered Melbury. 'When do we begin?'

Cornelius Quaint offered him a playful wink. 'My dear Warden Melbury…we have already begun.'

The Warden clasped his clammy hands together excitedly, eating up Quaint's stage persona. 'The lads are going to love this!' he cheered.

Quaint circled his hand in the air a foot above the deck of cards. 'As you can testify, Warden, I have not interfered with the pack in any way. Indeed, this is your very own deck of cards, do you agree?'

'I do indeed, sir,' agreed Melbury.

Quaint flicked a quick, last-minute glance at his audience. Appreciation of the spectator's gullibility was as much a part of The Equivoque Principle's power as anything, and Warden Mel-bury might just as well have had a target painted on his forehead. When selecting an audience member to come up on stage, the conjuror chose very wisely indeed. Melbury had already made his love of sleight of hand known to Quaint. That was his first mistake. A willing participant whose mind was already convinced of the wonders of magic did half of Quaint's work for him-in other words, the perfect stooge. Quaint picked up the cards and shuffled merrily, rolling his eyes to the Warden as it were the most mundane part of the act, whereas, in truth-the shuffling of the cards was key to its success. The Equivoque Principle was as much about timing and preparation as misdirection.

After the cards had been well and truly shuffled, Quaint offered them to Warden Melbury. 'I have split the deck thoroughly, would you concur?' he asked.

'Con…cur?' asked the Warden numbly.

'Agree…Would you agree?'

'Yes, yes, I would, Mr Quaint! 'Course I would.'

'Splendid. Now, I want you to choose a card, any one, from that deck. Do not let me see it, whatever you do. Once you have selected any one of these cards from the pack-even a picture card such as the King of Diamonds, not only will I be able to name it for you-I will also do so blindfolded,' confirmed Quaint. 'And are you sure you do not wish to shuffle the cards yourself to be sure? You are perfectly welcome, you know.'

Warden Melbury shook his head adamantly. 'Nope. S'all right. Carry on, mate.'

Quaint smiled.

That was Melbury's next mistake.

Quaint fanned the cards out in front of him and looked over at the Warden.

'Pick a card.'

Melbury sucked on his stout thumb, and conjugated as to his choice-as if it really mattered what card he chose anyway. He coyly stabbed his stout finger onto a card, and looked up excitedly at Quaint.

'This one!' he declared.

'Oh…really?' Quaint asked flatly. 'Are you sure you want to choose that one? Not this one over here?' He pointed to another card.

An element of doubt suddenly crept into Melbury's mind. He changed his mind, and placed his finger on top of another card, but not the one Quaint was pointing at.

That was Melbury's third mistake.

'You are absolutely sure now?' Quaint asked. Melbury nodded firmly. 'Excellent. Now, please take a good look at it. Just to make sure I cannot possibly cheat, I will go and stand over in the corner, and blindfold myself.' Quaint did as he related, and stood in the dank corner of the room. He removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket, and proceeded to tie it around his head, covering his eyes completely.

Melbury thrust his card up close to his face, peering round the corner of it just to make sure Quaint couldn't see it. It was the King of Diamonds.

Quaint cleared his throat and continued: 'Now if you would be so kind as to place your card back in the deck. Anywhere you like…the top, the bottom…anywhere. Remember, I cannot see where you place it, I am totally blindfolded. Once you have done that, Warden Melbury, please shuffle the cards again…as much or as little as you desire. Let me know when you are done.'