A Dangerous Madness by Michelle Diener

trial. More a sweeping under the carpet.”
    A vein began to throb at Gibbs’s temple, and his eyes bulged. “What did you say?”
    This time, James didn’t bother to hide his wince at the way Gibbs’s voice set his teeth on edge. “You heard me. The word is you’re calling the trial for Friday, a mere four days after Perceval’s death. You know Bellingham is from Liverpool. It will be almost impossible for witnesses to come down to London in time, let alone for the investigators to question them. That’s aside from letting the Bow Street officers do a thorough job with the evidence in London.”
    Gibbs said nothing, his breathing heavy, his face almost purple.
    “It also hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that you’re charging Bellingham with murder, not treason. If you’d done that, by law you’d have to wait fifteen days before the trial could commence. So what are you trying to hide?”
    James had hoped to see Gibbs during this visit and do a little stirring, but Gibbs’s reactions went beyond his expectations.
    The Attorney General was rarely at a loss for words, but now he gaped like a fish out of water.
    “I’d like the answer to that, myself.” The man who appeared suddenly behind Gibbs was James Stephen, one of Spencer Perceval’s best friends. His voice was a little hoarse, his face white and grim.
    While Gibbs turned to face him, James rose from his chair. He’d prefer to be standing for this confrontation. It should prove interesting.
    “I’ve already spoken to Ward about the trial date—” Gibbs was forced to step into the room with James as Stephen crowded him.
    “I’ve seen Ward. He told me what you said.” Stephen flicked a curious glance at James, and then focused on Gibbs again. “Neither of us found your excuses reasonable. While the crowds were out of control on Monday evening, things are much calmer now. You risk fouling the case by forcing the trial date so soon after the crime. We need to know the truth of why Perceval was killed, damn it. He was our friend. It doesn’t make sense…”
    Stephen trailed off in genuine distress, and James noticed Gibbs had edged even further from him. A nerve ticked under the Attorney General’s eye.
    “I would like to know how you all know the trial date, anyway. It hasn’t been announced yet.” It was bluster, an attempt by Gibbs to divert the conversation.
    Stephen gave him a contemptuous look. “Perceval deserves justice. That means giving the investigators the time they need to investigate. You’re perverting the course of justice with this jumped-up excuse for a trial.”
    “That is enough!” Gibbs’s face contorted. The vein was throbbing on the side of his temple again, and James wondered if he was going to suffer an apoplexy. “Out. Get out of my office.”
    James exchanged a look with Stephen, and gave a slight nod. He moved past Gibbs, still standing just in the room, panting as if he’d run up stairs. Stephen followed him out, past the wide-eyed clerk, and into the street.
    “Surprised to see you in there. What’s your interest in this, Wittaker?” Stephen stopped and turned to face him. This close, James could see the dark rings under his eyes, and the deep grooves on either side of his mouth.
    “It’s legitimate, that’s all I can say.” James paused, then held out his hand. “I am very sorry for your loss. I know you were close to the prime minister.” Stephen was one person he knew would have had nothing to do with Perceval’s death. He and Perceval had been an almost indestructible team.
    Stephen shook his hand, his gaze thoughtful. “When we challenged him, Gibbs looked like he might fall down in a blue fit.”
    “Yes.” James looked back toward the building, but the clerk hadn’t come running out screaming for a doctor, as James half-expected him to.
    “He’s the Prince Regent’s man, you know?”
    James shook his head.
    “He was the Prince Regent’s legal council for many years. And as an ally of