“Bedlam” begins its second arc of Nick Spencer’s serialized reformed mass-murderer cop = buddy drama with “Our Little Conferences”. And I wasn’t quite anticipating the time jump Spencer utilizes here. Although Spencer is no more specific about it than a “few weeks,” the character relationship between Det. Acevedo and Fillmore Press, formerly cautious appreciation and defensive banter, has fallen into a friendly partnership, one in which Acevedo regularly visits Press in his home, brings him contraband sweets, and consults freely about troublesome cases. Despite jumping several steps, or perhaps because he jumps several steps, Spencer makes this work. Acevedo’s attempt to offer Press a consulting job—-contingent, of course, on the approval of a bill granting her Department of Extraordinary Crimes permanent funding, which itself is in the midst of a City Council political battle—-is perfect, especially as Press mistakes it for an accounting position. But Press’s past as Madder Red continues to infringe on his new life and new (albeit still unofficial) consulting job, and his continued proximity to murder and the reminders of his previous atrocities are constantly threatening to bring Madder Red back to the surface.

The new mystery remains fairly fledgeling, a series of simultaneously activated bombs by unrelated citizens motivated somehow by cell-phones orchestrated by a pixelated figure. It’s a promising beginning, and one that strikes a very different tone than the gothic, self-mutilated, religious zealots of the first six issues. However, the continuity of the Acevedo-Press partnership helps transition this new tone, anchoring the series and providing it the kind of character consistency which can sustain Spencer’s serial-form mystery.

While it’s difficult to imagine what “creative differences” might have instigated former artist Riley Rossmo’s departure from “Bedlam”, precisely because his interpretation of Spencer’s story and characters were so flawlessly executed, his absence is already perceptible in the jarring drop in artistic quality in Bedlam #7. Certainly, Rossmo’s a very difficult act to follow. Ryan Browne is a talented artist on his own, but the quality of his work here is very mixed, perhaps because it tries to ape Rossmo’s earlier interpretations of the characters. Some panels show his potential on the series, and I do anticipate improvement as he develops his own feel for Spencer’s story, but some are downright sloppy and poorly defined (cf. top right panel of p. 15, as Fillmore tries to turn off his television). I don’t know what kind of deadlines Browne had for the turn-around, and I’m inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt on his first attempt, but I do hope his work picks up in the next few issues.