“Carlo is sick with jealousy.”
– The Blue Suit talking with Josh Resnek
By JOSH RESNEK

The mayor delivered the keynote address at the groundbreaking for the 650 unit apartment development at 85 Boston Street early Wednesday morning.
This is where the mayor allowed a trash transfer station to operate for 12 years without permits.
The Blue Suit and I watched the proceedings from the Wendy’s parking lot.
We couldn’t hear a word the mayor said. We watched his lips moving. As the Blue Suit said to me: “That’s better than having to listen to what he says because it’s all a lie whatever he’s saying.”
“Look at him. He’s trying to smile. He wants to take credit for this development. All the credit goes to the developer, by the way,” the Blue Suit added.

The Blue Suit ate some kind of Wendy’s Burger. He loved it. He slobbered it all over himself. I hate Wendy’s. If I’m going to eat fast food, I stick to McDonald’s.
“You think you’re better than me because you don’t eat Wendy’s,” the Blue Suit complained.
“That’s not true,” I answered. “I think I’m better than you because I don’t have to be worn by Carlo. I hate Wendy’s. I’d hate the mayor’s abuse more,” I added.
The Blue Suit lit up a Winston.
“Put that out, will you? It’s a disgusting habit,” I demanded.
“You think this is bad. Do you have any idea what it’s like when Carlo smokes a cigar the size of a telephone pole?”
“Put the cigarette out or you’re walking home,” I ordered.
The Blue Suit dropped the Winston from his lips. He crushed it with his shoe.
Back to the groundbreaking for the 650 unit apartment house. The former owner of the trash transfer station made $50 million on the transfer.
“So tell me. Carlo feels the $50 million the owner of the trash transfer station made in the transaction should be his. How does that work in his mind? Can you explain it to me, please? I asked.
“In Carlo’s mind, he should get a cut of all development in Everett,” the Blue Suit said with confidence. “And I believe he does.”
“You know, Josh, how he likes to ask developers or business types in Everett: “What’s in it for me?”
“Yes. Yes. I have heard this many times from a wide variety of people. They tell me they get left alone by Carlo and his crew after making a $500 or a $1000 political contribution. Those who don’t give year to year have city hall problems all the time.”
“What exactly does Carlo mean by what’s in it for me?” I asked again.
The Blue Suit laughed.
“If you get a city job, he demands a thank you. I’ve known people he demanded a thank you from before doing the favor. If you need a special permit, he wants a thank you. If you want to do big developments, well, you must know how to navigate with Carlo or the doors to city hall are closed. That’s how it works in Everett with Carlo if you want to know the truth.”
I expressed amazement.
“Why do people around here put up with this kind of quid pro quo?”
“I honestly don’t know, Josh. First off, he’s an FBI informant. He signed a proffer agreement with the US Attorney’s Office. You can’ trust Carlo. He talks with the government. I know he does. I’ve been there with him. If you’re giving Carlo cash you should have your head examined,” the Blue Suit added.

“Do you believe, are you telling me, business people and individuals give Carlo cash payoffs or thank yous, as you like to call them?”
“Definitely, Josh. No question about it.”
“Can you give me some names and dates, please?”
The Blue Suit straightened himself a bit. He wiped his pants clean of Wendy’s goo that oozed out of the burger he ate. “That will come later, Josh. Not right now. It’s too early in the race to be dropping atomic bombs. I have some nice bombs to drop,” he added.
If you still don’t understand what Carlo means when he says what’s in it for me, here’s a Carlo anecdote.”
The Blue Suit continued.
“Carlo was flown down to Florida to break bread with a few gangster friends of his. He spent several days on a yacht owned by one of the potential Everett developers. He was flown down to meet these guys because they were trying to put together a deal to buy the Monsanto land. This was around the casino time when the Monsanto land was about to produce a giant “commission” “payoff” or whatever one wishes to call what Carlo was allegedly paid for sealing the land deal.”
There’s more,” the Blue Suit said.
“Anyway, he was on the yacht with a crew of people doing things I cannot repeat and will not repeat. Things got a bit out of hand,” the Blue Suit recalled.
‘What do you mean?” I asked.
“After a while, Carlo was rolling around on the deck of the boat. He was almost incoherent, making very little sense while shouting to the developer: “You will get yours when you get the land. When do I get mine? When do I get mine?” the Blue Suit told me.
I couldn’t believe it.
Wait a minute, yes, I could. This is the same Carlo DeMaria wanting another four years of the corner office, another four years of business possibilities of “thank yous” mostly of the color green to sustain his lifestyle.
Carlo could barely contain the bitterness he felt delivering remarks on the spot where a developer made $50 million two weeks ago flipping the land and Carlo wasn’t getting a penny of that.
Talk about a big fish getting away.
The Blue Suit told me what Carlo said when he heard the developer made $50 million for flipping his project in Everett.
“That was my deal. I did it for him. He owes me big time. He couldn’t have done what he ‘s done without me. Never would have happened. I should be getting millions for making this deal happen. I should be getting at least $5 million,” Carlo said to someone on his cell before the kick-off at the site Wednesday.
“He was pissed.”
Can such a story be true?
Yes, it can be true.
What’s worse, it is true.
This is the same Carlo who likes to talk about transparency.
What a laugh.