Kevin Guilfoile - The Thousand

I shouldnt have to say that I have taken liberties in writing The Thousand. Nevertheless, the many fictional threads of this novel are interwoven with fact. Pythagoras was a far more interesting and important fellow than most history classes acknowledge. Much about him is a mystery, but there are some excellent books for anyone interested in discovering what we actually understand about the Pythagorean cult, the first among them, in my opinion, being Kitty Fergusons terrific The Music of Pythagoras: How an Ancient Brotherhood Cracked the Code of the Universe and Lit the Path from Antiquity to Outer Space. Those looking for a more succinct overview might check out Divine Harmony by John Strohmeier and Peter Westbrook. And if you really want to go hardcore into the Pythagorean influence on the history of music, read The Harmony of the Spheres edited by Joscelyn Godwin.

The translation of the fragment from Life of Pythagoras by Nichomachus of Gerasa is from Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker by Felix Jacoby.

Thanks to my early readers, including Dr. Jon Svahn, Kevin Fry, John Warner, Michele Seiler, and Peter Bormes. Thanks to Joe Dickey, as well as to Thomas and Janine Pendergast, who donated generously at charity auctions and endowed this novel with its best two character names. Thanks to the Ninth Avenue Mens Club and everyone at theoutfitcollective.com. Thanks to Pete Henrici and Chris Manolis (better known in my house as Mr. Chris) for help with Latin and Greek. Thanks every day to Max and Vaughn.

Thanks to Simon Lipskar, Katie Zanecchia, and Josh Getzler at Writers House, as well as Kassie Evashevski, Josh Getzler, and Nikki Furrer. Thanks to everyone at Knopf, especially Jordan Pavlin, Leslie Levine, Maria Massey, and Erinn Hartman. Thanks to Jim Coudal and everyone at Coudal Partners.

And special thanks to Leticia Mata, and to Elizabeth, Melissa, and Sean Pierson, who do the really important work while I make stuff up and write it down.

a cognizant original v5 release october 13 2010

ALSO BY KEVIN GUILFOILE

Cast of Shadows

Kevin Guilfoile has written for McSweeneys, Salon, The Morning News, and The New Republic. His first novel, Cast of Shadows, has been translated into more than fifteen languages. He lives in Chicago with his wife and children.

H IS CHARCOAL SUIT had been tailored on State Street and drew an intimidating line across his shoulders. It tapered at his thin waist and billowed subtly at his ankles. His left sleeve had been cut just millimeters shorter than his right to better expose his fathers heavy platinum watch. In all his suits, he looked tall and confident and independent. But everyone in this warm fifth-floor Chicago courtroomjury, judge, media, spectators, prosecutorsalready knew Reggie Vallentine was smart.

Regardless of the facts, the states attorney wants you to believe that convicting my client would achieve some noble result, he told the jury while orbiting the lectern at a radius of six or so feet. Remember what the prosecution said in its opening statement: We cannot have two systems of justice, one for the poor and unknown and another for the rich and famous. The governments own case, however, has convinced me that two such systems really do exist. The truth is, my client never would have been indicted if not for the fact that he is a celebrity.

As someone who makes a living at the far table in these courtrooms, I have always had great respect for the state of Illinois. The state of Illinois does not prosecute unknown people when it has not a single microbe of physical evidence. The state of Illinois does not prosecute unknown people on hearsay. The state of Illinois does not prosecute unknown people with uncorroborated testimony from witnesses whose character, as you have seen, compares unfavorably to the accused in every respect.

His client had wanted to wear pinstripes on certain days, but Reggie convinced him that stripes make defendants look guilty. Instead, Reggie selected for him a number of dark suits with brightly colored shirts and patterned tiesa different combination for every day of the sixteen-week trial. An innocent man isnt afraid to stand out in court, Reggie said. Its the guilty man who wants to disappear. The outfits had to be approved by a stable of advisers, consultants, handlers, and hangers-on, but the defendant had made it clear to his people: We all work for Reggie Vallentine now. The only element of his appearance that was off-limits to Reggie was the trademark silver hair, which stuck from his head in all directions like a saints halo in a Byzantine mural.

So you ask yourself, Why Solomon Gold? Im not sure I know the answer to that question. Only the states attorney himself knows why he has mounted so vigorous a crusade for the purpose of sending my client to prison.

On the first day of his defense, Reggie never even mentioned the victim, a twenty-two-year-old cellist in the Chicago Symphonys training orchestra. Instead, he introduced controversial testimony indicating that states attorney (and gubernatorial candidate) Bradley Spelling had a long record of bringing charges against high-profile defendants and, in advance of this trial, had lobbied hard and successfully to change state law so the proceedings could be televised.

I speculate about the reason we are all here only because I know the states attorney to be an intelligent man, and his experienced prosecutors cant possibly look at the evidence they presented in this courtroom and come to the conclusion that my client is guilty. And the only reason I have slept soundly at night throughout months of this Kafkaesque trial is that I know the twelve of you are intelligent, as well. I am certain the only motive you will have in your deliberations will be to ascertain the truth. Therefore, I know the only verdict with which you can return is not guilty.

He modulated his rich baritone for the spacious courtroom, which was paneled on all sides by stained oak and attentive reporters, three floors and another world of opulence away from the cramped bench where this same judge dispatched the cases of everyday defendantsdrug dealers and addicts and thieveswho werent so flush with money and fame. Three national cable networks were covering the trial in real time. Reggie wore makeup specially formulated for live-television performers who must look natural both on camera and before an audience. He told his client to wear it, too. The prosecutors wore no makeup at all.

The state has made a tremendous deal about the cruelty of this crime, and by some transitive property it hopes you will apply that awful quality to my client. The prosecutors organized a parade of experts to testify that Erica Liu continued to be bludgeoned about the headgouged in the eyeeven after she was unconscious. Yet they have not produced a weapon. As you heard from the medical examiner, they arent even sure what that instrument could have been! How many times did you hear those three words from prosecution witnesses, Im not sure or Im not certain? Do you know? One hundred and forty-seven times. One hundred and forty-seven times, they werent sure. Yet somehow they are sure that my client is a murderer.

Only in his late thirties, Reggie had been a respected and prominent Chicago litigator before Gold, the Oscar-winning composer and music director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, tapped him for this case. Now he was a national star. Late-night comedians constructed terrible punch lines around his name. (The queen of England was too ill to meet with the president this week and apparently she felt really guilty about that. She felt so guilty, in fact, that she hired Reggie Vallentine.) Sketch comedy shows lampooned him. Glossy periodicals celebrated him. Tabloids shortened his last name to Valli for headline convenience. ( AINT THIS VALLI LOW ENOUGH? read the front-page wood in the