Today, we have an excerpt from David Swinson‘s Sweet Thing — one of my most-anticipated novels of the year. I loved Swinson’s Frank Marr trilogy (The Second Girl, Crime Song, and Trigger), and so this new novel went right on my TBR list as soon as it was announced. The publisher has kindly provided this excerpt to celebrate the novel’s release next week. First, here’s the synopsis:
Homicide Detective Alex Blum must answer a terrible question: ‘how far would you go to love the wrong woman?’
In a red brick house on a tree-lined street, DC homicide detective Alex Blum stares at the bullet-pocked body of Chris Doyle. As he roots around for evidence, he finds an old polaroid: the decedent, arm in arm with Arthur Holland, Blum’s informant from years ago when he worked at the Narcotics branch.
But Arthur has been missing for days. Blum’s only source: Arthur’s girl, Celeste — beautiful, seductive, and tragic — whom he can’t get out of his head. Blum is drawn to her and feels compelled to save her from Arthur’s underworld. As the investigation ticks on and dead bodies domino, Blum, unearths clues with damning implications for Celeste. Swallowed by desire, Blum’s single misstep sends him tunnelling down a rabbit hole of transgression. He may soon find the only way out is down below.
Set in 1999, Swinson, a former DC cop, offers a look back at a rougher, grittier, bygone DC replete with seedy strip clubs, pagers beeping, and Y2K anxiety. It’s here we’re taken inside sting operations, fluorescent-tinged interrogation chambers, and rooms that have seen irreversible mistakes. At once authentic, gritty, tragic, and profound, SWEET THING asks how far can you fall when the world teeters on the edge?
Now, on with the excerpt…!
*
6
Kelly was harder on her than I would have been. Made it sound like she didn’t have a choice. Hindering an investigation and all that shit. We were inside the house within a couple of minutes. I noticed that the tennis trophies were still on the buffet table in the dining room. Always wondered about them, but never asked Arthur.
I kept thinking how the hell could someone like her be with someone like Arthur? Probably because she was still using. But then, I looked the place over. Did he finally get his act together, quite heroin, and clean up? Get himself looking better in the process. Start taking showers? Celeste was wearing a light gray long-sleeved sweatshirt and tight faded blue jeans with thick socks. Her teeth looked clean, and she didn’t have that sweet foul smell most addicts carried with them. Like I said before, more than once—she was beautiful. A natural beauty. Didn’t need makeup. Didn’t have any on, either. I had to stop my mind from going there, but there was something about her other than her appearance that I was still deeply attracted to.
I rarely met Arthur here when he was my CI, but sometimes I had to show up to check up on him. I was very careful about that. We usually met at a location far removed from where we did our business. When I did show up at his home, though, I would never want to sit. The dilapidated furniture, like Arthur, was nasty. Now there was new stuff, and the place was clean. Had a different touch. I knew it was all her.
Kelly and I sat on the sofa, she on one end and I on the other. Celeste sat on a purple armchair near Kelly. I allowed Kelly to take over the questioning. Not even allowed, really. It was a given because I fucked up so bad.
“How long have you known Arthur?”
“I don’t even remember. A few years. Detective Blum said this involved a homicide investigation, but you won’t tell me if Arthur’s involved somehow. Is he?”
Kelly takes the photo of Arthur and the decedent. She shows it to her but doesn’t let her take it.
“Can you identify the two men in this photo?” She asked.
Without hesitation she said, “The one on the left is Arthur. I don’t know the other man.”
“You’ve never seen this other man before?”
“Never.”
Kelly slipped the photo back in the inner pocket of her suit jacket.
“Do you know anyone named Chris Doyle?”
“No. Is that the man in the photo with Arthur?”
“Arthur never mentioned anyone by the name of Chris?”
“I said no. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“It is the man in the photo,” I said.
“How long did you say Arthur has been missing?”
“I didn’t say he was missing. I just said he hasn’t come home yet.”
“When was he last home?”
“Three days ago.”
“And he didn’t tell you where he was going?”
“No.”
“Did you ask where he was going?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he goes away sometimes for days. Does his own things. Detective Blum knows. I don’t want to know what he’s up to as long as he pays the bills. I’m not working right now.”
“I’m sorry, Celeste, but I find that very odd. Difficult to believe.”
“Believe what you want. We don’t have your typical relationship.”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like you to try to call him on it.”
Her lips tightened and she shook her head like we were nothing but a disruption.
She looked at me as if it was my fault. She stood from the chair.
“It’s in the other room.” And she left to retrieve it.
Kelly looked at me, rolled her eyes. I nodded like I knew what she was thinking and agreed.
She returned after a few seconds with her cell, sat down again and flipped it open. Scrolled down to find the number.
“Can I see what number you have for him?” I asked.
She showed me the phone’s display. It was the same number I had.
“Give him a call,” Kelly told her.
She tapped the number. I could hear the muffled sound of it ringing.
A moment later she closed the phone and said, “It just went to his voice mail.”
“Call again and leave a message for him to call you. Tell him it’s important, but don’t say anything about us,” Kelly told her.
Again, with her tight lips, but she made the call.
When it went to voicemail she said, “Call me. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
She hung up.
“Thank you,” I said. “And he’s not in trouble. Like I told you the other day, he might be able to help us with this homicide. I don’t believe he had anything to do with it, but it’s obvious he knew the man.”
She nodded, briefly made eye contact with me again, but it was different that time. Softer.
I don’t know if she believed what I said but I had to say it. I didn’t want her to tell Arthur he might be in trouble, because that could turn on us. He’d really be in the wind. At this point, he was all we had.
“How often does Arthur disappear like this?” Kelly asked.
“Not a lot. And I don’t worry when he does. He always comes home.”
“Is he still using?” I asked.
She gave me the kind of look like that’s none of my business. Couldn’t help but think she was very expressive without having to say a word.
“He goes off on a binge sometimes.”
“Give us the name or names of who he might be with,” Kelly said, like it was an order.
“I don’t have any names of who he might hang with,” Celeste said without hesitation, and then turned to me. “You used to work with him. Why can’t you just make a call and see who he’s working with now, if he even is?”
“We will.”
I thought Kelly was pushing too hard and wanted her to ease up a bit.
She didn’t.
“You telling me you don’t know any of the people he hangs with?”
“That’s his business and he keeps it to himself. He knows I don’t want to know about that side of his life.”
“So you don’t know any of his friends or anyone else?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, yeah, you did.”
“I meant that I don’t know any of the people he goes out and binges with.”
“Then give us the names of those people he doesn’t use with. Just his friends or your mutual friends.”
“I don’t want to get any of my friends involved in this.”
I jumped in and said, “Celeste, for all you know, Arthur could be in danger. This is a homicide investigation. If you care for him then you want to do what you can to help. Right?”
“Of course.” After a brief moment: “We only have three friends in common.”
Kelly turned to a blank page of her notebook, handed it to her with her pen.
“Can you write the names down with an address and phone number?”
“I just have cell numbers.”
“That’ll work,” Kelly said.
She wrote the names down along with the numbers, handed the pen and notebook back. Kelly looked them over for a second.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, tone changed a bit.
Kelly pulled out the photos of the naked women from her inner pocket. Yellow sticky notes concealed their nakedness and only revealed headshots. She handed them over to her.
“Do you recognize any of these women?”
“I’m guessing they’re all naked.”
“You’d be right,” she said.
She flipped through them, looking them over carefully, handed the photos back to Kelly.
“I don’t recognize any of these women. Are they dead?”
“We don’t have that information.”
She put them back in her pocket, closed her notebook and looked at me.
“You got anything you wanna ask?” she said to me.
“Only thing is, Celeste, you make sure Arthur calls me when you hear from him or see him. I also want you to call me just in case he doesn’t.”
“Okay.”
I felt uncomfortable with her eye contact. It’s was like she was looking right through me. It made me wonder if Kelly picked up on it too. Was Celeste mad at me because of all that happened in the past and probably still was happening? That I did nothing about it. I could have easily stopped the abuse, had him arrested.
After we got in the car, Kelly handed over her notes turned to the page where the names are written down along with the cells.
“We should run those names, along with the other ones we have through WALES before we make any cold calls,” she said.
“I can get on that. So, you really believe she’s not in contact with Arthur?”
“I don’t believe a fucking word she said.”
Kelly got a call as we were driving back to the office. I could hear what sounded like a woman at the other end.
“Okay,” she said, lips pursed like she was angry.
When she got off I asked, “Everything okay?”
“We need to make a stop before hitting the office.”
*
David Swinson’s Sweet Thing is due to be published by Mulholland Books in North America, on November 7th.
Also on CR: Reviews of The Second Girl, Crime Song, and Trigger
Civilian Reader 