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The Blue Suit


I hear Carlo is making good deals at city hall – not for the people, rather, for him,” the mayor’s Blue Suit said to me during a long discussion we shared late Tuesday afternoon.

He told me the mayor was in the pool at the back of his mansion. He said he couldn’t be bothered with anything. He didn’t answer his cell when it rang. He described him as a big honey dipped donut after he dove into the pool and settled to the bottom.

The Blue Suit was circumspect. He doesn’t tend to talk in long sentences of with convoluted language.

“He just didn’t seem to care about anything. It was as though nothing meant anything to him…except money. His thirst is for money. He’s bad with money, not just his own, but with the city’s money.”

“What about these deals the mayor is making good deals – as you refer to them. What do you mean by that?” I asked the Blue Suit.

“Come on, Josh. Let’s not kid around. You know, I know, everyone who knows Carlo understands about what a good deal is for him.

“What do you mean?” I asked the Blue Suit.

“Do you want me to spell it out to you, Josh? Do you not understand what I am saying and alluding to?”

“Yeah. I get it. You know I understand,” I said.

“I just don’t know how he gets away with it? How can these deals he makes fail to attract public scrutiny?” I added.

“You write about it all the time in the Leader Herald, Josh.

An awful lot of Everett folks read what you have to say. Most people know Carlo isn’t in this for the people. He’s in it for himself. There’s really nothing else he can do but be the mayor. Besides, he couldn’t afford to take another job with all the extras he takes in as mayor. It wouldn’t make any economic sense. Yeah,” the Blue Suit said with certainty. “He is stuck here whether or not he likes it. He’s always all revved up with nowhere to go.”

“In a perfect world, what would be his wish come true?” I asked.

“An unlimited line of credit at the casino here and in Las Vegas, hanging out with Steve Wynn and President Trump and other big shots tossing his weight around at the gaming tables, attracting attention as a big, big gambler and basically having no responsibility. He’d do other things, too. But I’m not going to go there. I don’t want to be cut to shreds or to become a piece of used clothing in a Salvation Army store.”

“He doesn’t care very much about anything when you come right down to it. He is very common, pedestrian, really, without an ounce of interest in things and situations that have no chance of enriching him.”

“I often wonder why he does the things he does – like detouring a basketball stanchion to his driveway and have city employees from the electrical department shine a light on it when it was headed for a city park. For the life of me, I don’t understand how he could steal a $10,000 donation to the city and place it for everyone to see in his front driveway. I mean, what’s that all about?”

The Blue Suit exclaimed that he is amazed that the mayor took a raise recently when he’s laying people off and cutting salaries while at the same time asking people to donate generously to the rep’s campaign against Mike McLaughlin.

“Hello,” he exclaimed. “Is anyone home?”

“How can he keep his raise – something like $14,000 (claiming the city charter doesn’t allow him to give it back to the city) and have the audacity and bad-timing to ask people to contribute to the rep race? I know something about that race,” the Blue Suit added.

“If I were him, I’d donate the raise to charity, to the people lining up for free food because they can’t feed their families.

“What?” I asked.

“Carlo told Jerry the Paper Boy that he doesn’t think the rep is going to win. He’s very concerned that McLaughlin is working harder. Carlo believes the hand writing is on the wall for himself if the rep doesn’t win.”

“No,” I said. “Are you serious?” I asked the Blue Suit.

‘Serious as a heart attack,” the Blue Suit replied.

“They don’t have a good feeling about the rep’s chances this time around,” he said to me.

“If the rep loses, the mayor suffers a loss because of it. And don’t think for a second enough folks at city hall are so angry at the mayor that they won’t vote for the rep.”

The Blue Suit took on a thoughtful pose while looking at himself in the mirror in the mayor’s bedroom while talking with me.

“The mayor really wants McLaughlin to lose. He wants him to be humiliated. He hates Mike. He’s jealous of Mike. I think he believes Mike is having a better time than he is. Backing the rep is a halfhearted thing for the mayor. They are feeling desperate about the rep’s chances,” the Blue Suit said dispassionately.

“Listen carefully to me, Josh,” the Blue Suit asked.

“I am in danger with Carlo. He put a knife to me recently. He said if he caught me talking with you, he would cut me to shreds.” “You know that’s not the first time he’s taken a knife to someone,” I asked the Blue Suit.

“How do you know about that?” he said to me excitedly. “And if you think about it, you’re wrong about the knife. Get your story straight. It was a scissors.

“Very few people know about that incident. It happened in Revere, didn’t it?”

“Yup,” I answered. “It was about a lot more than just putting a scissor to someone,” I can tell you that,” I added.

“Does he know you know about that incident?” the Blue Suit asked me.

“He knows now,” I answered.

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