A/N: First, as always, I don't own these characters—they are the property of NBC and the great Dick Wolf. Second, thanks to the late Edgar Allan Poe for the title of this story, taken from "The Raven." And to the writers of Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, CLUE, and all the other mystery stories/movies of my youth—thanks for the inspiration. And to you readers: please read and review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: Not So Elementary, Watson

"It's…It's aliiiiive!" The crazed inventor cackled maniacally.

"Dad, this isn't scary," Jamie Deakins turned her head and looked at her father, who was sitting on the couch with her mother and younger sister.

"This version of Frankenstein is a classic," Jim Deakins told his daughter, pausing the film. "And if you don't want to watch it, you can go to bed."

"I'm not tired."

"It's not my fault you hyped yourself up on Halloween candy…" Deakins sighed, and then pressed the "Play" button.

The inventor continued to cackle. Outside, thunder clapped and lightning crackled across the New York sky as the rain that had been pouring all day continued to fall. Then the power went out. All three of his daughters screamed.

"Thought you weren't scared," he told Jamie, who had climbed into his lap.

"I'm…n-not…"

"I'm going to go find a flashlight and check the circuit breaker," Deakins said. "I think it's time for you girls to go to bed…it is way past your bedtimes."

XXX

He was outside, sheltered from the rain by the back patio cover, when Deakins' cell phone rang. He answered it, noting that the time was now 12:20am.

"Deakins," he said. "What?...Are you serious?...Warren Policy? The columnist? Right…all four of them…you got it…" He closed his phone, thought for a moment, and then opened it again. He sent one page, with the same message, to four different numbers and headed back inside to let his wife know he had to go down to the precinct.

XXX

Mike Logan was at a Halloween party at the Manhattan Mayhem bar. He didn't know how he'd ended up dressed in costume…he had a feeling it had something to do with attracting women...Most of the other patrons were in costume, so it wasn't unusual, and dressing like Sherlock Holmes had paid off—he noticed a woman in a nurse's costume eyeing him. Before he could make a move, he felt his cell phone go off. He reached for it, saw the page from Deakins and groaned. There went his exciting night…

XXX

Alex Eames was on the dance floor at Club Viva, moving her hips to the sounds of "Monster Mash" when she realized her phone was vibrating. She stepped off to the side and checked her messages. The precinct? Now? She wouldn't have time to change…she knew wearing the "sexy bunny" costume had been a bad idea…

XXX

Carolyn Barek couldn't breathe. The corset was killing her. "Thank God I didn't live in the 19th century," she muttered to her friend, Anna. "I wouldn't have lasted a day."

"But you make such a wonderful Scarlett O'Hara," Anna replied. "And the patients love it…it's for a good cause…"

"You're right…the pain of this corset is nothing compared to…shoot…my phone is going off…"

"So answer it."

"So, it's in my…petticoats…" She managed to get the phone, just as the "Message" light started blinking. "Work," she said simply. "Tell Rhett and Ashley I'm skipping out on them."

XXX

The dried paint was making his face itch like crazy. Bobby Goren still could not believe he'd let Monica talk him into this…They'd only been out on one other date…Why did he agree to go out on Halloween? And to let her pick his costume? He was at the refreshment table, standing awkwardly. It really couldn't get any worse than this. And then his phone went off. He checked the message from Deakins. Okay, he was wrong. It had gotten worse. Tenfold.

XXX

Mike arrived at Major Case, holding a magnifying glass in one hand and a pipe in the other. The fake mustache and big, floppy plaid hat were also still on.

"Is this a joke?" Deakins asked.

"Hey, it's Halloween," Mike said. "And you said it was urgent."

"Great…maybe you can channel Sherlock Holmes and he can help you guys with this case."

"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you when the others get here. No need to repeat myself four times."

Just then, Alex walked in, arms crossed, an angry look upon her face. Neither of the men noticed these things, because the bunny costume more than had their attention.

"You say anything, I swear to God I'll kill you both," she snapped.

Mike tried desperately to keep in his laughter.

"What?" Alex said. "I'm a single female. I was getting my groove on."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Mike couldn't resist.

For that, she socked him hard in the arm. He only laughed more, and even Deakins' eyes were filled with mirth.

Carolyn walked in a moment later, hoop skirt in full swing.

"Good grief, I didn't realize Halloween was now for grown ups too," Deakins said.

"I was at a fundraiser," Carolyn said defensively.

"For what? Widows of the Confederacy?" Alex grinned, grateful the attention was off of her for a moment.

"The cancer ward at Manhattan General, thanks," Carolyn said. "Who let out Little Bunny Foo Foo?"

"Ladies, ladies…" But before Deakins could go any further, they were struck dumb at the sight of Bobby Goren coming in the doors.

As his partner, Alex felt the right to tease first, once she'd regained the ability to speak. "Bobby…I had no idea you were a stand-in for the Jolly Green Giant."

"I'm supposed to be the Incredible Hulk…

His colleagues were bursting at the seams, trying not to laugh.

"I didn't have time to change…though I see I'm not the only one…" Bobby turned to Deakins. "So now that we're all here…what's going on?"

"Right…the case," Deakins remembered himself, and why he'd called them all down there in the first place. "Warren Policy was found dead about an hour ago."

"Warren Policy…the columnist for the Post?" Alex asked.

"The one and the same. He was hosting a dinner party at his mansion on the outskirts of town…a Halloween party for the elite, apparently. There were four guests still there when he died…but no one knows what happened or how or why…"

XXX

Mike pulled the sedan up to Burke House, the large estate that was so far out of the way that it was barely in their jurisdiction. He was still wearing the goofy hat and mustache, and his colleagues were still wearing their attire. He felt lucky to be the least ridiculous-looking of the bunch.

They made their way up to the doors of the place, which was now surrounded by police officers.

"Sorry, party's over," an officer said, moving in the way of the foursome.

"NYPD," they all said at once, fishing for their badges.

"Goren…Bobby Goren is that you? What in the hell…"

"Never mind it," Bobby said, clenching his teeth, "Just let us by."

The officer acquiesced, and they went inside the house. Luckily for them, they were immediately spotted by Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers.

"Wow…I'm not even going to ask," she said. "The body's in the parlor. The party guests are being held in the living room…why don't you come with me and I'll catch you up on what's going on…"

They followed her to the parlor, where the body of Warren Policy, the sensational Post columnist lie, face down.

"Cause of death?" Alex asked.

"We're not quite sure," Rodgers said.

"That…that looks like a bullet hole to me," Bobby said, crouching down by the body.

Carolyn was looking around at the room, muttering to herself. "Exit path…exit…"

"No exit path," Rodgers said, "Bullet's lodged in his body somewhere. But that's not his only injury, and I don't know that that's what killed him."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

She got on the floor and flipped over the body.

"Stab wounds," Carolyn observed. "Several."

"As well as strangulation around the neck," Rodgers said.

"Someone…or multiple someones shot him, stabbed him and strangled him," Mike said.

"The problem is, who did it, and which injury killed him," Rodgers said. "I'll have to take him back to the lab and run tests to find out."

A uniformed police officer came in the room just then to find them all around the body.

"Uh…are you the Major Case people?" he asked, warily.

"That would be us," Alex said. "I'm Detective Eames, this is Detectives Logan, Goren and Barek."

"Officer Dooley," the officer said. "My partner and I have been interviewing the guests…there were four people left when the murder happened. They were all in different parts of the house, other than this room…they all have their whereabouts accounted for by other people…Also, the murder happened when the power went out."

"Why do I feel like I'm suddenly in a Milton Bradley game," Mike muttered.

"You guys can, uh, go ahead and interview them if you'd like," Officer Dooley said. "Be careful though…you've got some power players in there."

"I know Warren Policy's wife is Samantha Burke, the New York One anchor," Carolyn said. "Who else is here?"

"Claire Wentworth, the heiress, for starters," Dooley said. "As well as Brett McInerney, the guy that the Yankees just signed, and Mark LeBeau."

"The shoe guy!" Alex said.

"That's right," Dooley said. "Like I said…they're not being very helpful…maybe you can all work your MCS magic on them…though if you're wearing that bunny costume…" He looked at Alex. "That might make the men talk…well…at least Brett McInerney."

Alex glared at him, realizing that while her colleagues were oddly dressed, they weren't in skimpy clothing. She suddenly felt even more out of place.

"Here," Mike said noticing her discomfort. He took off the long plaid jacket he wore and handed it to her. "Bunny-be-gone."

She took it and cast him a grateful glance. "Okay, Barek and I can take the women…why don't you guys take the men…"

Nearly an hour later, they met back in the foyer of the house.

"Samantha Burke was upstairs, taking a bath," Carolyn said. "The maid had just brought her a towel when the power went out. Then they heard the gunshot."

"Claire Wentworth was in the kitchen, getting a glass of wine," Alex said. "The cook was in the kitchen when she was in there. The power went out, and then they also heard the gunshot."

"Presuming it was the gunshot that killed him," Bobby said. "And not something before that, like the stab wound or the strangulation."

"Right…"

"Mark LeBeau was in the bathroom," Mike said. "So was our star Yankee."

"What were they…"

"Don't ask, don't tell…but they accounted for each other."

"Wow…if Warren Policy had found out about that…it would have been all over the Post," Alex said.

"Maybe he did find out," Bobby said. "It would give them reason to kill him."

"I found this in the parlor," Carolyn said. "I went back to look at the body…it was under his shoe." She produced a small note.

"To my dearest Warren," Mike read. "Always, Your Claire."

"I thought Samantha was his wife," Bobby said.

"She is," Alex said. "And now they've both got motive as well."

"So they all have motive," Bobby said. "But they also all have alibis…we can't arrest them all."

"If they all could have wanted him dead…they might all be covering for each other," Carolyn said.

"I know!" Mike said, twiddling his fake mustache. "It was Colonel Mustard, in the Billiards Room, with the candlestick."

"Not helping," Carolyn said.

"At least I'm not wearing a hoop skirt."