Just a few nights earlier, I’d sat no more than five feet from him as he performed his 90-minute Chamber Magic show in the Lotte Palace’s gilded Madison Room. He poured five different cocktails out of a single, silver teakettle; he made playing cards levitate; he linked and unlinked three solid silver and platinum rings borrowed from the audience; and he told us secrets about ourselves that he had no business of knowing: “You drove 5,321 miles in a single year”; “You attended a hotel party with Ariana Grande.”
So why wouldn’t he miraculously have any card I named in his jacket?
“How about the two of diamonds?” I say.
When he opens his jacket, however, he doesn’t have any cards. Instead, he reveals a black-and-white silk-scarf lining depicting every playing card in the deck. “I’m sure it’s on here somewhere,” he says, wryly inspecting his lining. He’s done this non-trick for a non-magical reason—to show me one of his own secrets. “These are rare Hermès scarves,” he says proudly. “I had this jacket custom made.”