Having read - and thoroughly enjoyed - The Daughter of Time for the first time recently, I think this is a great question. The role of the historian and the detective are in many ways very similar, both painstakingly building a case through the use of evidence, even though the ultimate aim is somewhat different (the historian centrally concerned with the 'why', the detective centrally concerned with the 'who'). And i must admit to loving crime novels (Georges Simenon's Maigret books and Maj Sjowal and Per Whaloo's Martin Beck series being particular favourites).

Does TDoT accurately represent the process of historical research. In some ways, yes it does. However, I would argue that it represents a particular kind of historical research undertaken at a particular time. To my reading, Inspector Grant is analogous to the senior 1930s-1950s Oxbridge don who never strays from the college and thinks big thoughts in the comfort of his rooms. In order to do the actual work of archival research, he dispatches his assistants to libraries, the British Museum, etc. This was - and is - true for some senior scholars who can afford research assistants, but is relatively rare these days (relatively, as it still occurs but most of us will never have the funding to hire research assistants!).

Grant does do the work of historian, though. His interest is piqued by an initial conundrum: how can the kindly face he sees in a painting be reconciled with the reputation of Richard III as a brutal killer? This is where we all start. We strike upon something that remains unanswered, and area that needs revision, etc. Grant then does what we all do: he hits the books! And in these books he finds inconsistencies, contradictions, a falsehoods repeated as fact. All historians must start a project by examining the existing literature. Some that we all must look out for is this point of falsehood repeated as fact. We're often so reliant on the literature that we fail to notice the origins of a particular truism. And then when you dig back, you find out that an accepted thing was made up wholesale by Lord Bingley Lunch-Cavalcade in 1836 because it fitted his theory about Archbishop Laud being addicted to smearing liquorice paste on his buttocks before retiring to bed. But, when you dig back, there's no evidence other than what Lunch-Cavalcade wrote after two bottles of burgundy and a plate of grouse (followed by a rather pleasant Madiera, no doubt).

All this aside, Grant pieces together his analysis of the history through careful digging in the literature, the evidence and insights brought to him by his research assistants, and by triangulating all of this. He - as we know [spoiler alert!] - concludes that Richard III did not murder the princes in the Tower, and that the entire thing is a post-facto fabrication for political purposes. Behold! He has come to conclusions about a historical what and why through investigation into and analysis of a wide range of evidence. He's a historian using the basic historical method.

Of course, the process of research is dramatised and corners are cut. Good research takes time, you have to discard most of your sources because they turn out to be irrelevant, and there is hardly ever a smoking gun. I do believe, though, that Tey takes many elements of basic historical research and turns it into a fascinating and engaging detective story that has been hugely influential and has been aped by subsequent generations of crime and mystery writers. And it's a bloody good read, which in the end is all that matters.

If you are interested in the practice of history, John Tosh's classic work The Pursuit of History (now in its seventh edition) is well worth engaging with.

Malcolm