The clock struck twelve on my twentieth birthday as I stepped inside the flooding corner shop. It was the only place open this time of night, and rows of produce were already soaked in brown, murky water. I glared at the cashier, who kicked his feet up on the counter and crossed his arms behind his head. “Rains, you know.” He said, and offered no further explanation. Tossing over some change, I leaned over and grabbed a solitary cylinder of licorice, one of the few things that looked untouched, and headed outside. My brother was leaning against the wall, head bent over his phone.

“This date calls for celebration! I’d suggest heading to a nightclub, but I doubt they even have one in this one-horse town. Still,” I raised the can like a flute of champagne, “today heralds the end to the years of teenage angst and consternation.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Ryan said, grinning, “and I won’t completely nix that idea of yours, either. But let’s put a pin in it for now, because Zurich’s just agreed to meet us. He’s only a few minutes away.” We’d been trailing this guy nonstop for over two days, and the dark shadows under my brother’s eyes were testament to his lack of sleep. His gaze was still intense as ever, though, almost feverish now. He set off walking across the road. There were some scattered streetlights, but as a whole the town was dark enough I could look up and see the stars. It just wasn’t natural. There had to be some kind of blackout here or something.

“No flashlights.” My brother muttered under his breath, his lips barely moving. Even his footsteps made no noise at all, though my lack of such a mystical skillset meant my own shoes on the sidewalk felt deafening in the silence. I couldn’t figure out why he was bothering with all of this. It wasn’t like catching Sam Zurich unawares would make him more amenable towards negotiation. It might make him more amenable to using his switchblade on us, though.

It all came clear the second we rounded the corner. We heard the slam of a car door and running footsteps. Ryan swore, and a light beam shone out of his hand as he ran to follow. I’m a better sprinter than he is, if not by much. There was only one car on the street anyway, a rusty old Buick that still had its headlights on.

My brother swept his flashlight over the neighborhood, but our runner was long gone. The lights were on in the car, which was why I could clearly see a mosquito through the windshield. I also saw a man with silver piercings and a scruffy goatee, lying back in the driver’s seat with a knife through his throat.

It’s always my job to call the cops. Ah, well. Perhaps the local department was sitting up in bed late at night, eager for some excitement.

*******

After the call, I sat on the hood of the car and started stuffing my face with licorice. The clear container held red and black and every color in between, but they all tasted the same; sweet like a punch to the face, with just a hint of bitterness. You might call me callous, sampling candy in the wake of a murder, and you’d be right. But I was starving, exhausted and fresh out of sympathy. Sam Zurich had been no angel. Live by the switchblade, die by the switchblade.

“The body’s starting to enter pallor mortis.” Ryan muttered, looking through the window. “It must’ve been at least ten minutes.”

“Gotta be. The hood of the car isn’t even warm.” I observed expertly, given I was sitting on it.

“Right. But the lights in the car are on. Zurich’s turned to the side, like he was speaking to someone. He was stabbed by his own weapon – probably means it wasn’t planned. Hopefully that means we have a shot at getting fingerprints. It looks like the car’s been ransacked, too, though whoever it was left the dollar bills and looted through the papers. Which means…”

“One of Zurich’s charming associates.” I gritted my teeth. “There can’t be that many out here, right?”

Ryan shook his head. “Tao, Karpov, Harding… almost half the old crew is out here.”

I groaned. “This is going to be one of the long ones, isn’t it?” The kind of case that involves dozens of hours talking to people, watching surveillance tapes over and over, and other drudgery that doesn’t make it to the TV screen. Necessary drudgery, given the stakes of this affair, but was it too much to ask to end it quickly on my birthday?

My brother glanced at me, his expression sympathetic and maybe a little guilty. He was the one who’d pulled me into this, after all. “I’m afraid it will –” His grey eyes brightened to silver. “Wait. Give me the licorice can!”

I’d finished all the candy at this point, but I’ve learned not to question him during these moments. I tossed it over, and he caught it under his arm, slipping on a pair of gloves. He then opened the driver’s door and snatched something out of the air with the can, slamming the lid on and shutting the door in one swift movement. Ryan puffed, catching his breath as he held up the can.

I could see something buzzing around sluggishly through the plastic. A mosquito, its abdomen swollen and faintly red. “It’s nice you decided to rid the world of one more mosquito, Ryan, but I don’t see how this helps.”

“You can extract human DNA from the blood inside a mosquito.” He said, turning the container in his hands. “Especially a freshly fed specimen like this one. That’s why I keep telling you to read the old cases. It’s all happened before.”

I pointed inside the car. “Couldn’t that blood have come from our buddy here?”

“Mosquitoes don’t hunt targets from smelling blood, Dylan. They do it through the body’s CO2 levels, which decrease rapidly after death. Not to mention conditions like pallor mortis drain the blood from the capillaries, making that even more unlikely. Nevertheless, you’re not wrong. I suppose there is a chance it came from Zurich. So I guess the question is, are you feeling lucky tonight?”

Only a chance. But that chance alone could solve the case with a few DNA tests. I found myself matching my brother’s grin, then yawned. Almost on cue I started to hear approaching police sirens. Lights started switching on in the houses around us, a few people opening their windows.

Was I feeling lucky tonight? Yes, I think I was. With even a little bit more luck, we could clear this up by the time the diners opened for breakfast. As far as birthdays go, this might go down as a good one.