City of Vice

London, my city.

It was a monstrous place.

Commerce and trade had made it that way and filled its ever-expanding streets with the rural poor.

Opportunity bread ambition,

and ambition bred a new moneyed class of person,

who had previously known little of respectability.

It's beautiful.

Can you play the one about the tinker and the maid?

She doesn't know the song in mean, sir. She's but 17.

I didn't ask you, did I?

- Do you wish me to be scared of you, sir? - Are you?

No, sir. I'm not afraid of you.

I felt compelled to make a proposal to Parliament

to remedy society's growing problems.

The brutality I saw had convinced me to turn my attention from my celebrated works of fiction

and to accept the role of Magistrate of Westminster.

And with my brother, John, blind since youth,

I resolved to create a new organization that would bring law and order.

London needed a police force.

You'll stick the warrant in there, yes, the bill.

Then when you make an arrest, you whack them with it. Whip, whip, whip, out it comes.

You get one of these as well. - Yeah, now, these...

I made these, right? See this, yeah? GR.

Know what that stands for? Good riddance.

You said that, didn't you, Mr Welch, eh? - Ay.

Mr Brogdon, we're ready to see you.

- Mr...Brogdon. You can read and write, can you? - Yes, Mr Fielding, very well.

Because most of your duties will be keeping records.

We can test your mettle on the streets...gradually.

You're required to swear on this book that the upholding of the law shall be your overriding duty and concern.

We take no money, we take no favours. - Only our wage.

And our personal lives do not impinge.

Is that clear? - As morning, sir.

Er, sirs! Sirs, sirs, I fear there's been a house break-in and murder on my watch.

The city was growing while the poor were forced to dig into their cellars to extend their hovels with perilous warrens,

the newly rich luxuriated outward into the fields surrounding Mayfair and St James.

I've been to the house this morning, there's no answer at all.

The windows are all shuttered up. I dread to think...

You are the night watchman for the area, are you not? Were you asleep?

It is extremely dark, if there's no moon.

I seem to recall there were comings and goings late, all night from Mr Anderson's, Irish voices.

Sure they weren't Scottish? The owner is a Scot, is he not?

- They were Irish, bellowing like drunken monkeys. - Presumably, you're paid by the parish to do your job.

I'm not a physical entity at all. I came to Bow Street straight this morning, did I not?

- We were also at Bow Street last night! - I shall leave you to it then.

That is the echo of an empty house.

- What's the man's name here? - Anderson.

I seem to remember he's in the sugar trade. - Where is the servants' entrance?

Would you admit us, please, Mr Penflow?

- This is private property, sir. - Who's there?

A medley of distressed domestics, all presumably deaf.

Kindly tell your master, the brothers Fielding, magistrates, wait upon his pleasure.

It is a Sunday morning, sir. Being a gentleman of breeding, the master is at church.

- The time of the break-in, is that right? - Yes.

- I mean, robbery? The only servant, a maid, was questioned. Is that right? - Yes, sir.

- Well, I will notify Mr... Ah! - I'm expected my Messrs Fielding.

They're out, sir. There has been a house break-in and a murder in Mayfair.

You're new, are you not? What happened to the negro?

- Dismissed, my lord. - Yes. So the whisper came to me.

What are you doing? - Writing notes upon crimes, my lord.

My lord! My lord!

May I assist your lordship in any fashion?

What do you think about the manner in which business is conducted here Mr...

Brogdon, thank you, my lord. I've been here but half an hour, sir.

There seems to have been a rash of house break-ins.

I'm glad at least that they keep a record of it.

For I'm hearing complaints.

I will not interfere, of course, we do not wish a political police like there is in France,

but you are aware, are you not, that it is I who ensures you are voted your money?

I was not aware of that, my lord.

You astound me Mr...Ogden.

Although I fear it's altogether typical of an enterprise which has woefully lost sight of its foundations.

Let us hear the word of God.

"And there came to angels to Sodom. And Lot seeing them, rose up to meet them."

"And he bowed himself with his face towards the ground and he said, 'Behold, now, my Lords, come in I pray you into your servant's house'"

"and ye shall rise up early and go on your ways."

I'm not happy with that new man.

Mr Carr was altogether the better choice.

You will concede, however, he did rather blot his copybook by betraying us to a gang of murdering sodomites.

As I'm now legally required to do, I published the banns of marriage between Mr Oliver Oliphant of St George's Hanover Square

and Miss Clarissa Anderson, a spinster of this parish.

If any of you know cause or just impediment why these persons may not be joined together in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it.

..struggle to meet demands, establish three new plantations, each with over 300 negroes.

What an awful lot. I hope she does not inherit his manners as well as his money.

A good trade, apparently.

Well, it's allowed a father to give his daughter all that is needed, all the accomplishments.

We are greatly looking forward to supper tomorrow.

And we are greatly honoured to entertain you.

Mr Anderson, Henry Fielding. This is my brother and colleague, John.

Mr Anderson, we... - Shall we?

With your permission.

I think that could be described as an attempt at discretion.

These people... The girl is plastered in white lead.

- It's the fashion, is it not? - Is it?

Marriage was not always built on a foundation of love.

London's ever sprouting mushrooms were often willing to sacrifice their daughters in exchange for a title and a respectable name.

Ogden.

How did you fair with the gentleman in Mayfair?

Not well, my lord. The gentleman in question is alive but he did not wish to speak to us.

That is plainly ridiculous, Mr Fielding. Had he been robbed?

- I believe so. - Then turn your tail, bring your men and encourage him to speak with you.

This is not an isolated incident, sir.

Do you wish me to instruct you on a clearer terms what your procedure and priorities must be?

- My Lord, please do not presume... - I will presume what I wish!

The purpose of this operation is to enable us, gentleman of means, to enjoy our lives, our persons and our properties in security.

I hope I do not misquote you. - Your memory does you credit, my lord.

But far from a diminution, your superintendency has seen a substantial increase in their rate of property crime.

Well, to be fair, my lord, the figures reflect our improved matters of recording.

How gratifying that must be for you.

I have been kept waiting here for several hours so I will come to the point

and tell you that I was here this morning, gentlemen, to say there are whisperings about doing away with this enterprise entirely

and of raising instead a bounty to be given to the thief takers, who were at least able to return stolen property,

prevent crimes like this one and take no payment for it from the general taxation.

- But they do... - Ah-ah! You are on borrowed time, Mr Fielding.

Mr Fielding. Look to your business.

The city was drowning in a wave of crime like none before.

Bands of robbers had taken to the streets.

Housebreakings, murder and theft were daily recorded in the newspapers.

- There cannot be nothing at all. - Nothing is precisely what there is.

- What are we sitting on? - A packing case.

The master will see you now, and the master does not take kindly to being interrupted on his day of rest and being instructed to receive visitors.

Here we are, sir.

The Kingwood drop-front desk stood here with ormolu mounts.

And here used to be a cabinet... - Sir...

It contained the silver, notable items being meat knives, soup spoons, forks, serving spoons, all engraved.

- If you'd care to tell us what happened.. - Butter knives, all engraved with "RLA"

entwined with a sugar bush: my crest.

- Mr Anderson... - Gentlemen, I did not wish you to come here.

I am used to resolving my own difficulties.

A carved and gilded consul table stood here, next to which was a magnificent statue of Pan.

Forgive me. There's too much to remember.

Here was a portrait by Mr Haymen, of myself and my family.

What of the upstairs rooms, sir?

- Everything is as it was. - There's blood on the floor over there.

That is not blood. That is wine.

They discovered my cellar. They became drunk.

- Who did? - Two of them.

Afterwards letting many others in. They were Irish.

They removed everything. - And where was your daughter?

- She was out calling. - In the evening, sir?

No, she is out calling now with Lady Oliphant and her son.

Last night, she was... ..at Ranelagh Gardens.

Here is a draft for £500, which you may draw from my banker in Fleet Street.

That, I hope, will be enough for yourselves and for any expenses.

- What do you mean? - When you go to the thieves, or whatever it is that you do.

That is why you have visited me so, is it not? I am willing to pay for your services.

I see there's been a misunderstanding.

You may no longer go to your local magistrate or thief-taker to arrange for your property to be miraculously bought back.

- How is to be done now? - With deference to the law.

We're here to discover who robbed you.

- And of what use is that? - Do you trust your servants, sir?

Mr Fielding?

Mr Fielding... - We wish to speak to them, sir.

My daughter is to be married this week to the son of a baronet.

This is the fulfillment of my wishes for her.

I must be allowed to have my property back, so that the place may be respectable, so that we may be respectable!

And if you cannot give me this, then I wish you to leave, sir.

- A few words, sir, that's all. - No, you may not ask questions!

And I wish you to take these men with you! I do not wish men like this in my house!

I refuse to believe that none of you saw anything.

How long have you been working here? - Some months, sir.

- You are Irish. - I read something of yours once, sir,

in which you argued that it was equally bad to be dragooned on the highway as to be robbed in one's own home.

Well, sir, it is not, as anyone with a pennyworth of wit would plainly see!

Continue with the preparations.

Do you suffer from gout, sir?

- What in hell does that matter? - Well, your maid is mixing a tincture of tansy.

As a sufferer myself, I find it of wondrous assistance in relieving pain.

Get out of here.

Mr Welch, I'm afraid it's time to visit your dealer acquaintance in Seven Dials.

You and Mr Pentlow should question him about the Irish.

Best take Mr Brogden, too.

Come on.

Gentlemen.

Papà?

If you can find my property, do it, please.

If not, do not come back.

- Seems his daughter is not visiting the Oliphants. - Nor was she at Ranelagh Gardens last night.

Dr Hunter! Not an emergency, I hope. - Ah, Mr Fielding, um...

I am a friend of the Andersons, and calling to play some hands of whist.

- And in there are your cards. - Excuse me, sir.

- Queer moment for cards. - Hunter's a women's surgeon.

I'd lay bets that box contains pennyroyal. - To be mixed with tansy.

It's a poison which as far as I'm aware has only one medical use.

- Abortion. - Yes. Small wonder he desires secrecy.

Seven Dials was the most notorious slum in London and two minutes' walk from Covent Garden.

Families lived six or more to a room.

Gin laced with turpentine and sulphuric acid deadened the senses of Europe's most hopeless poor.

I've never been down here before.

You're not supposed to come down here. It swarms with the Irish.

It's good for us, then, in't it?

Here we are.

Oh, God!

Right, in and out as fast as we can.

There's a room at the back. All right?

Put that away. Follow me, right?

- Stay where you are! - What's this about?

A lot of stuff lifted from a house in Audley Street last night. You heard anything about it?

Audley Street? That new one, is it?