The Big Sleazy, Chapter 2

Late that night, I made the rounds of every seedy gin joint in town, hitting up my contacts for info on that crazy amulet. Down a badly-lit back alley, I stumbled into my favourite retro speakeasy, Dudo’s Dumpster Dive. If anyone could steer me right, it’d be Dudo.

He was behind the bar as always, slinging beer and other libations to the rough biker crowd packing the joint.

“Hey, Dudo, long time no see. Gimme a shot of your best hooch.” Remembering my unlimited expense account, I added: “And leave the bottle.”

Dudo came up dry on the amulet. But he did know of a witchy she-devil cat who might have her paw on the pulse of such things.

“Madame Kazee. Best tarot reader in the biz. If she don’t know where that amulet is, ain’t no one knows.”

“Where can I find her?”

Dudo paused, looked me up and down, and then called over the bar’s muscle, a big bruiser named Moose.

“Moose, take this guy to Madame Kazee. See that he gets there with his wallet intact.”

Turns out I didn’t even have to leave the establishment (or my bottle of booze). Moose shepherded both me and it through the bikers, hookers and general mayhem of the bar to a private room in the back.

“She’s in there, gumshoe. Better be respectful or she’ll put a curse on yer guts that’ll make you wish you wuz dead.”

And then Moose unceremoniously shoved me through the beaded curtain.

[Story, art and photo of art © Debra She Who Seeks, 2023;

you can visit Dudo and Moose at Moving With Mitchell]