The Boarding House Horror

10. Mario Costa

Mario hadn't left a single drop. He mournfully spun the empty bottle on a tabletop. I informed him it was his turn and then I played a few more moves of chess with Alice Bree as Mario visited the lavatory. My eyes strayed to Mariam's trim form when it was Alice's turn.

But soon enough I sat across from Mario Costa in the little lounge. His fumes filled the small space.

"I didda hear nothing. Nothing." A hiccup jolted his burly frame.

"Did you know the deceased previous to coming here?"

"Whatta? You don'ta know? I used to work for that imbroglione."

I blinked. "Crook?"

"Si, si. You know the casino, the Donna Fortunata? About half its business was legal. The other half not so much. And the third half, trust me, broke every law ever written." His thick forefinger stabbed at my knee to emphasize his point.

"So George Raptis knew about these illegal activities?"

"Knew? Bah. He was in charge. And, Inspector, I tella you true, and I tella you honest so help me. I know this because I was the guy to break the kneecaps of whoever needed scaring. I went to jail for it, too. Six months in the hole."

"Wait. You were—"

"Hired muscle, they call it. My lips are loose. I tell you everything. I tell you because after my time in prison I changed. I wore the one suit they gave me and that very hour I went to the biggest hotel in Milan and started washing dishes. Then I waited tables. Now I'm chef's assistant. Not bad, eh? Not bad." He thumped his meaty chest and beamed a cherubic smile.

"Congratulations. So what are you feelings about Raptis?"

"Hate him, of course. Oh, I didn't kill him, but I'm not crying over it. Poison, eh? See, I would have just punched his face in."

"Right. Well, did he threaten you?"

A profound frown wiped away Costa's cherubic smile. "Inspector. I like you, so I will tell you. The answer is no."

"No?"

"Not threaten, but he did apply pressure. Pressure to come back to work for him. Money. Money. Money. He waved the money in front of my eyes."

"But you declined it."

"I tell him vai a morire ammazzato.*" Costa blew a rude sound from his generous lips.

"Declined indeed. Did you know Trevor Brashear?"

"The limey? A little bit, the poor man. His wife died. Fell off a bridge, the newspapers said." The Italian tapped the side of his nose wisely.

"But you don't believe it?"

"Not for a second, not where the Donna Fortunata is concerned. The word is she was pushed. The word is she won a big pot of money at the casino, but the management didda notta pay."

"Good heavens." I had forgotten to take notes.

Mario combed blunt fingers through his abundant curly hair. "No proof, Inspector. Just a rumor. There will never be proof. Whatta is the matter, Inspector?"

I had probably gone pale and a look of horror had probably twisted my face. It had occurred to me that Trevor Brashear would have motive to kill Raptis, if he believed Raptis had been responsible for his wife's death.

"Oh, I'm fine. Where were we? Oh, yes, did you know any of the other guests before coming here?"

"Only Daria." Costa's face went dreamy.