The Last Queen of England by Steve Robinson Page B

trouser-suit.   When she smiled at him he thought her face carried the weight of a loss shared.
    “We were all so shocked to hear about what happened to dear Marcus,” she said, leading them past a line of visitors who were already queuing for their readers’ tickets.   “I was asked by Detective Fable to show you the records Marcus had requested in the last three months.   Is that correct?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Tayte said.   “And thanks for your cooperation.   I know it’s short notice.”
    They cleared the security checks and Marsh turned and locked eyes with Tayte.   “Just catch whoever did this, will you?”
    They took a lift to the first floor where they passed the Open Reading Room and continued to the Document Reading Room.   It was a large space, like any modern open-plan office, with grey carpet, overhead fluorescent lights and swivel chairs arranged around honeycomb-shaped desk pods.   Every pod had a numbered cube at its centre and all were vacant because the regular visitors had been held back for now.   They were taken to a pod adjacent to the windows and a member of security staff who had been waiting for them resumed his duties as they approached.
    Ordinarily, there was a strict no talking policy in the Document Reading Room, which was never going to be a problem for officers Hampshire and Hues, who stood rather than sat at the opposite side of the pod.   The only sound Tayte could hear was the background hum of the air conditioning.   Victoria Marsh indicated the records that had already been laid out for them.
    “I’ll leave these with you,” she said, exercising her executive prerogative to contravene the rules.   “If you need anything else, just ask a member of staff to contact me.”
    Tayte smiled and mouthed a silent thank you as Marsh left.   He was so used to keeping quiet in such rooms that he thought nothing of the fact that on this occasion they were the only people there to disturb.   He looked at Jean and then at the records.   Every document at The National Archives was referred to as a record, irrespective of whether it was a single sheet, an entire book, a newspaper or a photograph.   If it had a catalogue number it was a record.
    There were only two records for them to see and Tayte thought there might have been more given all the work Marcus had put in on the charts found at his home, but he knew much of his friend’s research would have been focused on birth, marriage and death certificates, which were held at the General Register Office.   His research would undoubtedly have taken him to other repositories, too.
    Tayte pulled one of the records closer and set it between them as he and Jean sat down.   It was a book called the Newgate Calendar - Volume II.   It bore the subtitle, ‘ The Malefactors’ Bloody Register.’   He’d come across the Newgate Calendar before.   It began as a monthly publication of the Ordinary of Newgate’s account of executions: the Ordinary being the prison chaplain, who made money selling his accounts to the publishing press.   These accounts were later compiled into six volumes that were once among the top three books to be found in the family home along with the Bible and The Pilgrim’s Progress.   They encouraged moral correctness through fear by showing illustrations of people like Thomas Hunter, the knife-wielding child murderer: one boy lying lifeless at his feet while another, caught by his hair, is struggling to free himself.   The publications were against Catholicism, the Commonwealth and anything outside of the Common Law or Bloody Code as it was later known, favouring the Church of England and the monarchy.
    Tayte put on a pair of the white gloves that had been provided for them and turned to the index, feeling the old book’s uneven edges as his fingertips passed over them.   There were several pages of names and he had a good idea what he expected to find.   He turned one page and then another.   Then