A/N: As always, the characters in this story are not mine. Criminal Intent characters are the property of Dick Wolf and NBC. Monk characters are property of USA Networks. Also, all lyrics to the musical "Chicago" are property of John Kander, Fred Ebb and Bob Fosse. Please read and review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: Razzle-Dazzle

In New York City's war on crime, the worst criminal offenders are pursued by the detectives of the Major Case Squad. These are their stories.

The jazz music swelled to a crescendo and the chorus girls sang their hearts out, each wanting to make their mark, however small, on the Broadway stage. Behind the stage, in the dark "on deck" area, Diana Vale got prepared to go on for her number when someone grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey, watch it," she said, "I've got to go on in a couple minutes."

"Just a moment of your time," the person said, yanking her to the side. There was a brief struggle, and Diana wasn't sure what was going on. A moment later, she was nearly flung onto the stage for her number as Velma Kelly, the lead in Chicago.

A bit unsteadily, she began to sing.

"Come on babe, why don't we paint the town, and all that ja--jaaa"

Before she could completely get over the word "jazz" she fell over her heels, and collapsed onto the stage floor.

The dancers looked nervously at each other. When they realized she wasn't getting back up, someone danced their way over to her. Fake smile on her face, the dancer whispered urgently to the stage manager, "Someone get a doctor…now."

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"Cause of death?" Detective Bobby Goren bent down to the level of the Medical Examiner, who was inspecting the body of Diana Vale, which was still sprawled on the stage floor.

"At first glance it appears to be just an accident," Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers said. "A brain aneurysm or a heart attack maybe…but then I saw her arm…look at this." Rodgers turned over the woman's right arm to reveal bruising and needle marks.

"She was an actress and a junkie?" Detective Alex Eames pushed a strand of hair behind one ear and kneeled down as well.

"Again, on first glance, maybe," Rodgers said. "But her eyes and fingernails showed no signs of drug use …look at these marks. From the looks of it, whoever shot her up had a hard time finding a vein. And the bruising is post-mortem. She was shot up the arm right before she died."

"What was she shot up with then?" Alex frowned.

"Air is my guess," Rodgers said. "Air bubble went straight to her heart in a matter of moments…Though I still have some tests to run, I feel pretty safe in telling you that someone killed Diana Vale."

"It was premeditated," Bobby said, getting up and walking the length of the stage as he spoke, hands behind his back. "Someone wanted her death to be very public…"

"What's going on?" The stage manager came rushing toward them from the auditorium part of the theatre. He climbed on the stage. "They wouldn't let us back in here. Is Diana okay?"

"And you are?" Alex asked.

"Ted Lucerne," the man said. "I'm the stage manager…Is Diana okay?"

"Diana Vale is dead," Alex informed him. "Are the cast and crew still here?"

"No…no they all left after the police wouldn't let us back here."

"Great…so now we have over a hundred potential murder suspects on the loose," Rodgers said, rising.

"What—murder?" Ted Lucerne was confused.

"Mr. Lucerne, when is the best time to come pay a visit and ask the cast and crew some questions?" Alex asked.

"We have rehearsals tomorrow afternoon…if even one of them is missing, I'll know it."

"We'll see you then," Bobby said.

XXX

"Give 'em the old razzle-dazzle. Razzle-dazzle 'em. Give 'em an act that's unassailable…"

Bobby and Alex walked into the theatre the next afternoon, met by the sounds of rehearsals already in progress. Ted Lucerne spotted them and made his way over as they walked down an aisle, getting closer to the stage.

"Detectives," Ted said. "Everyone is present and accounted for. All the stars, their understudies, crew members…"

"They seem like a lively bunch for just having lost a key member of their corps," Alex noted.

"They're actors," Ted said, "Some of them have waited years to be on Broadway. They might have sprained ankles but they'll dance away, smile on their face. They may be grieving, but you'll never know it from watching them sing. As they say, the show must go on…"

"With a new Velma Kelly," Bobby said. "Who…who was Diana Vale's understudy?"

"Lucy Shepard," Ted said. "She feels terrible…she finally gets her chance on the Big White Way because of the death of another actress…quite unfortunate."

"But a motive for murder," Eames said.

"You don't think…"

"Right now, Mr. Lucerne, everyone's a suspect," Alex said. "And we'll need to talk to as many people as possible."

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"Do you know if she…had a boyfriend? Seeing someone…in the cast, for instance?" Bobby asked the woman playing Mama Morton. "Everyone's told us that you and her…were pretty good friends."

"Look…" The woman, Tina Thurman, sighed. "Diana was my friend…but she wasn't the type to go out with actors…she was…stuck up in that way. She dated businessmen…rich guys who would come to the plays, see her, and buy her drinks afterward."

"Know any of their names?" Alex asked.

"Nope. We didn't talk about our personal lives. Just theatre gossip. She could be vicious when it came to other actresses…even when I worked with her—and we were supposed to be friends—she could be a pain in the ass."

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Goren and Eames spent the afternoon catching actors between numbers and crew people as they fiddled with lighting and moved props. They were no closer to pinpointing a surefire suspect but they had nailed down that though Diana Vale had been a superb actress, she'd also been difficult to work with.

"Terri, you don't sound too surprised that Diana was killed," Goren said, as they talked to their final witness, Terri Bell, the woman who played Roxie Hart.

"Not to speak ill of the dead, or to sound like the musical we're in, but…well…" Terri stopped.

"Let me guess," Eames said. "She had it coming?"

"You got it."

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"We searched her house…didn't find a thing that says she's involved with someone, on or off the theatre circuit." Alex sighed, looking to Jim Deakins. "No one saw anyone who didn't belong back stage back there before she died."

It was much later that night, nearly midnight, and the detectives had spent all day interviewing theatre people, as well as Diana Vale's neighbors, to no avail.

"The only thing we know for sure is that she wasn't easy to work with," the captain said. "That gives us every actor and director she's ever worked with as suspects."

"It was sort of weird," Bobby said. "No one seemed upset…or even the least bit bothered. Terri Bell wasn't the only one who didn't seem surprised by Diana's death."

Deakins' phone rang just then. "If you'll both excuse me a second," he said.

Goren and Eames went back into the bullpen, looking over photos from the crime scene.

"Everyone was so quick to paint her as a bitch," Eames said. "A little too quick."

"Yeah…" Goren chewed on the end of his ink pen. "Something's not right..."

The words from the musical's rehearsal were still in Bobby's head.

"How can they see with sequins in their eyes?

Razzle-dazzle 'em and they'll never catch wise!"

"I don't know what it is…" he said. "But we'll find it soon enough."

"You're never gonna believe this," Deakins said, coming out of his office a few minutes later.

"What's that?" Alex asked.

"I just got a call from Leland Stottlemeyer, San Francisco PD. The star of the traveling tour of Evita was just killed…in the exact same way as Diana Vale."

"Copycat?" Bobby wondered. "It was all over the papers today."

"Or a potential serial killer," Deakins said. "Pack some clothes, guys. You're going to San Francisco."