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EPISODE TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-THREE:
On Friday 12th of December 1969, at roughly 9:50pm, at the Duke of York public house at 47 Rathbone Street in Fitzrovia, a fight erupted between a group of black youths and a group of white youths, which resulted in Robert Kent being stabbed to death, and Sozen Moodley sent to prison for life. But was this a racially motivated attack, or a set of hot tempers flared by alcohol?
The location is marked with a teale coloured symbol of a bin at the top of the markers near the word 'Goodge Street'. To use the map, click it. If you want to see the other maps, click here.
SOURCES: This case was researched using some of the sources below.
MUSIC:
UNEDITED TRANSCRIPT OF THE EPISODE: Welcome to Murder Mile. Today, I’m standing on Rathbone Street in Fitzrovia, W1; three streets east of the deadly soap of Georgia Antoniou, one street west of the Charlotte Street robbery, two streets south of the scattered body parts by Louis Voisin, and a short walk from the crying weasel - coming soon to Murder Mile. Situated on the corner of Rathbone Street and Charlotte Place is the Duke of York pub, a decent boozer frequented by locals as most tourists are unlikely to pass it. Licenced in 1757, it was named after the younger brother of King George III, but – above the door – you may notice a portrait which resembles a very different Duke of York; an alleged randy royal, a noble nonce and a taxpayer funded paedo who – possibly owing to his inability to sweat – had to warm up his todger by bothering a young girl’s foof. Which is not to say that just because someone is infamous for one thing, that is all they ever do. The same could be said for the murder which occurred here. As on the night of Friday 12th December 1969, during the height of Apartheid and the demise of the British Empire, a fight between two groups of black and white males occurred, during which a young boy lost his life. But why? Depending on whose side was taken when this particular story was told, this could be seen as a struggle against oppression, racism and prejudice, or simply an all-too tragically familiar tale about arrogance, a temper, a simple spark and a bunch of idiots who were drunk. But what sparked it is down to you. My name is Michael, I am your tour guide, and this is Murder Mile. Episode 243: In Black and White. Sentenced to life for murder, 19-year-old Sozenderan Moodley (who most of his friends called Sozen) wasn’t the kind of person you would expect to be a convicted of a young man’s murder. But he was. Born on 11th of June 1950, Sozen was one of four children (two boys and two girls) to Doria, a housewife and Balasundrum, a school master. Raised in the South African city of Johannesburg during the tinder dry height of the brutal Apartheid, as a family of African and Asian origin, they saw the extremes of wealth and poverty, freedom and oppression, in a country deeply divided between blacks and whites. As the youngest, Sozen always looked up to his older brother Kastree, and as they grew, becoming fine young men who were both six feet tall and pencil thin, they were often mistaken for one another, with the only way to tell them apart being that Kastree had a neat little moustache, and Sozen did not. Johannesburg in the 1950s and 60s was a difficult time to be black, let alone also an Indian immigrant, but being raised with a solid work ethic and good morals, both boys were educated at Bree Street Indian School in their primary years and Lenasia High School in their secondary years, leaving with a school diploma, and although Sozen was more artistic than academic, he dreamed of higher education. Having left school aged 15, Sozen worked as an apprentice printer at Golden Era Printing in the city, earning himself a decent wage and a set of skills which would put him in good stead for the future. He was good, decent and although a tad hot-tempered, he never got into any bother with the police. But for him, although this was his home, South Africa had a long history of intolerance and segregation. In 1912, half a century earlier, the South African Native National Congress was established as a black nationalist organisation and political party with the mission “to maintain the voting rights of coloureds (being persons of a mixed race) and Black Africans in the Cape Province”. Renamed the African National Congress in 1923, the ANC would spearhead the fight to eradicate apartheid and South Africa’s policy of racial separation and discrimination. Across the next seven decades, they would fight hard and many would die, but with apartheid finally quashed in 1990, four years later, ANC President Nelson Mandela was elected to head South Africa’s first multiethnic government, changing the nation forever. In the 1960s, freedom from oppression was in sight, but it was still three decades away. For Sozen and his siblings, they knew their homeland wasn’t the place to fulfil their dreams, as with both sisters having already moved to Canada, it wouldn’t be long until Sozen left South Africa too. In 1963, aged 24, Sozen’s older brother Kastree came to the UK to study. Obtaining a General Certificate of Education from the Eliot School in Putney, although he returned home to undertake a degree at the University of Durban, as an anti-apartheid activist, he quit in 1967 for what he called ‘political reasons’. Obtaining a visa, in 1968, he married, moved to Fulham, and as a translator for political organisations like Amalgamated Protections on Oxford Street and later the United Association for the Protection of Trade in Berners Street, when charged – for his only known crime - the Police Report stated “he is an active member of the African National Congress” which in brackets they wrote “(the Black Panthers)”. And that was a big part of the problem – miscommunication. By 1969, when the murder took place, people in South Africa knew the difference between the African National Congress and the Black Panthers (the black nationalist organisation headed up by Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale in California, whose radical and - some say – provocative actions led to a high level of press coverage and the founding of the British Black Panthers), but here, most British people didn’t see the difference, especially as, our government and the press were still supporting apartheid. From 1960, with the ANC banned by the entirely white South African government, and with Britain being one of South Africa’s biggest trading partners and investors - who didn’t care what was morally right, only what was profitable - the ANC were forced to become an underground political movement. For Kastree, London’s West End was key to the ANC’s struggle… You could walk down these streets today and not see a single memorial to its past, but across just a few streets in Fitzrovia, through the 1960s, it was a political hotbed of the black freedom movement. A discrete little flat above 24 Goodge Street was the secret headquarters of South African Communist Party in exile. 39 Goodge Street was where the African Communist Quarterly was printed, miniaturised and smuggled overseas. The upper two floors at 89 Charlotte Street were the offices of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. And (before moving to their more infamous offices at nearby 28 Penton Street) directly opposite the Duke of York pub was the ANC’s London headquarters at 48 Rathbone Street. …and yet, for Sozen, he only came to London for the art. Arriving on a work visa at Heathrow Airport on the 11th of August 1968, 15 months before the murder, even the Police report describes Sozen as “a man of sober habits and a good character”, and unlike many of the others caught up in this deadly incident, “although he is known to associate with members of the ANC”, such as his friends and his brother, “he is not a member of the organisation (Black Power)”. Getting a place at the London College of Printing in Borough High Street, one year later, Sozen qualified as a Print Manager. Financially aided by his father to ensure that he would never be broke nor hungry, in September 1969, he attended a 12-week course in Lino Typing at a college in Kings Cross. He wasn’t political and he wasn’t a radical, he was just a young lad in a new country looking for work as a printer… …and yet, in a fight between a group of blacks and whites, he’d stab an unarmed youth to death. But was it a political act, a personal grudge, or self-defence? In his book, ‘London Recruits, The Secret War against Apartheid’, Ronnie Kasrils (ex-leader of the ANC’s military wing) describes how “after Nelson Mandela was jailed for life in 1964… this spelt the nadir of the liberation struggle”, so a group command was formed to “plan daring acts to demonstrate the ANC was not dead…” including the broadcast of anti-apartheid messages and the smuggling of literature, as well as one of their most infamous tactics – bombs – only these were not designed to kill or maim. ANC recruit, Eddie Adams described his training, like so: “in an empty office on Charlotte Street, (Ronnie & I) crouched behind some desks while he explained what we called ‘leaflet bombs’. These consisted of a plastic bucket with a platform”, piled with propaganda leaflets, “over a tube with explosives in it”. When triggered, “it would send leaflets a hundred feet into the air”, injuring no-one, causing (what the British would term as) a bit of rumpus, and educating as many onlookers as possible. But as an illegal political organisation hiding in a pro-apartheid country, they played a dangerous game with dangerous people who wanted them to be kept under surveillance or silenced for good; as from 1976 to 1994, 140 Gower Street (two streets over) was the headquarters of the British Secret Service, and at 200 Gower Street was BOSS, the South African Bureau of State Security, their secret police. Eyes were everywhere, ears were eavesdropping, and they didn’t know who they could trust, so it was no surprise when in 1961, the headquarters of the Anti-Apartheid Movement were bombed. And then, in 1982, 13 years after the murder, the South African secret police exploded a 24lb bomb in the new offices of the ANC on Panton Street. Killing no-one, injuring a janitor, and destroying a wall, it sent an all-too unsubtle message that they were being watched and were – very much - under threat. So, it’s no surprise that the ANC offices on the first floor of 48 Rathbone Street were so discrete. Situated opposite the Duke of York pub, beside a hotel and along from the eateries on Charlotte Place, this vague brown-brick corner building had three doors leading to its three higher floors, but with no signs, no posters and no flags, it just looked like any another office in this dark little corner of the city. It could have been anything; a storeroom, a help group, a charity, or an accountants, and not being an ANC member – even though he supported their beliefs - Sozen was not known to frequent the offices, as the nearest he came to them was to pay a visit to the pub for a pint with his pals, who were regulars. Also from Johannesburg, 31-year-old Surcaparakash Nannan was a married man with three children in South Africa, who worked as a teacher at Willesden High School and a clerk for Abbey Life Assurance. And as a more militant member of the ANC London group who wore his Black Panther sympathies on his sleeve - although he wasn’t the biggest, the boldest, the bravest but was often the most vocal - he wore the easily identifiable uniform of the Black Panther Party - the leather jacket and the black beret. And whereas Nannan was all mouth and no trousers, Linda Moole was too often all fists and no brains. Born in Queenstown, 27-year-old Linda was described as aggressive and bullish, an aimless thug with two criminal convictions for theft and assault (for which he was sentenced to 80 days in prison), who – although he was given a better start in life than most – was expelled from Blythwoods Institution “for political reasons”, struggled to hold down jobs, illegally arrived in the UK with no passport in 1967, and lived by himself in a small poorly furnished room in Islington, as paid for by National Assistance. Just like Sozen, they had their own reasons to be in London at that time when acts of rebellion, marches and demonstrations were rife, as Britain’s links to South Africa was a political hot potato. And yet, their ANC membership didn’t automatically mean that everything they said or did was politically motivated. So, how and why was a young white man stabbed to death… …in a part of the city described as the hotbed of the black power movement? Friday 12th of December 1969. It was a year of huge highs and low lows, as Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, the ANC held its first conference in exile, the House of Lords voted to abolition the death penalty and Chicago police killed two members of the Black Panther Party. But for Sozen, it marked the end of his Lino Typing course. As a 6-foot South African Asian, who was pencil thin and dressed in a blue suit and a white mackintosh, Sozen stuck out off a crowd, but then he had no reason to hide, as he was an artist, not an agitator. Being well-mannered, he handed his teachers a present as a thank you, and keen to mark the end his education, he bought a bottle of whiskey from an off-licence, even though he wasn’t much of a drinker. Sozen would state “I’d been celebrating… I had a fair number of drinks. I arrived at the Duke of York pub at 7:30pm”, where he met his brother, Kastree’s wife Mel, his pal Sathia and several others. Situated on opposing corners of Charlotte Place, the Duke of York pub may have been barely eight feet from the ANC headquarters in the heart of the black freedom movement, but this area – not being known for just one thing - was also known as part of London’s film district, its second-hand jewellery quarter, a haven for haberdashers, and many of its pubs were infamous haunts of radical novelists. Not being activists, Sozen and his pals had no reason pop into the ANC HQ, so as planned, they headed to the Duke of York, where they were regulars, and of the 30 people there, no-one was a total stranger. Racially, the mood across the city was no better or worse than usual, with the ramifications of the 1958 Notting Hill race riots still felt, as well as the 1966 riots in Cleveland, and several major riots bubbling under in Brixton, Toxteth, Handsworth, Broadwater Farm and Chapeltown. But this was just a pub. The Duke of York was a small corner pub with doors on Charlotte Place and Rathbone Street barely 20 feet apart. Dominated by a semi-circular bar with bench seats around the edge and pockmarked with tables and chairs, it had a juke box which played the latest hits - Marvin Gaye’s ‘I heard it through the grapevine’ and Ziggy Stardust’s Space Oddity – with a pinball machine and a football table out back. As always, being a Friday night (which for many was pay day), the bar was busy, with shoulders rubbing against shoulders, an occasional bit of argy-bargy and no spare seats for latecomers. As a regular’s pub, everyone split into groups, with a table of white youths, a table of black youths, a gaggle of old geezers at the bar, no solo or groups of girls drinking Lambrini (as unaccompanied women were banned from pubs until the 1970s), but a mixed group of lads playing snooker, as sport often brings people together. There would be many witnesses to what happened that night, most of whom were white, and although the police report makes it clear which of the South Africans were “members of the ANC” or “associated with members of the ANC”, no-one else’s political views were investigated, but several were criminals. At the bar, Peter Llewellyn-Jones had served two years for drug smuggling in Spain, and having fled, he was wanted by the Greek police, and convicted by a court in Athens to three years for drug smuggling. George Hayden was imprisoned for nicking petrol, Fred Atterbury pilfered clothes, Melvyn Goodings stole a car, and Cyril Bower had “persistently importuned male persons for immoral purposes”. Behind the bar, John Delham was convicted of possession of an offensive weapon, and the assistant manager, John Moore was (wait for it) fined £10 for stealing a tomato sauce dispenser. But then again, just because someone is infamous for something they have done, it doesn’t mean that is all they ever do. At 9:15pm, a group of white youths came in and sat at a vacated table by the door. Two students, Nicholas Clark & Michael Flannagan, Roseanne Barry, a typist, Pauline Battson, a trainee dental nurse, all aged 16 to 19, followed by Phillip Kent, a printer and his bespectacled brother Robert – the young man who would be murdered. And all being friends, they sat there quietly and unnoticed. The atmosphere was typical for a Friday night, as Michael told the police, “Phillip and Nicholas had a game with two coloured men on the football machine”, as everyone else sat drinking and chatting. Robert and Sozen were sat by opposite doors, and (as far as we know) they hadn’t met or spoken… …but at 9:50pm, the mood abruptly changed. Into the pub walked Linda in a dark brown coat, and Nannan in his Black Panther beret, as they pushed and shoved their way in, causing drinks to spill, voices to raise, and as almost every witness to agree that they were “determined to cause trouble”. With Peter the drug smuggler perched at the bar, Linda & Nannan faced him down when he wouldn’t (or couldn’t) budge over to give them a little more space. But was this a racist act, a principal, or a matter or logistics from Peter, Linda or Nannan? As Linda grabbed Peter by the lapels and shouted in his face, although several men of different colour came to the aid of whoever had a similar skin-tone to them, before it kicked off, the landlord had split them up, and even though Linda had invited Peter outside for a fight, the incident was over for now. It seems like nothing, an insignificant little something which happens in a pub, on every week, in every city, as someone whose had too much to drink tries to take on another drunk for a pointless purpose. But as fast as the anger had quelled, it erupted just as quick. Sozen stated “Linda jumped on my table” and launching himself from a bench, “he began to fight with the other brother”, by which he meant Phillip Kent. Why? We don’t know because everything went into chaos. “Phillip broke a glass on Linda’s head”, Sozen said, and suddenly “everyone was fighting”. As Robert stepped in to protect his brother, Sozen said “I didn’t pay much attention until the two white brothers came over and joined in the quarrel. I then got up, went over and tried to stop the fight. The brother with the glasses pinned my arms behind me”, being Robert, as the melee continued in the bar, with bottles being smashed, benches being thrown, and Michael hurled across a table, as all the while Nannan made a swift exit, and Peter the drug smuggler, who some said had incited it, was ignored. With the action reported by Rosemary & Pauline who’d wisely sought refuge by the ladies’ toilets, the police report stated “there was little doubt that the coloureds were the aggressor”, with the ringleader being Linda who stood on the bar to kick Robert in the face, and as that boy fell to the floor, Linda repeatedly kicked him as he lay bleeding, and seeing another, Linda move onto Michael to do the same. And although, Sozen and Robert were only participants on the periphery… …it was then that this happened, and nobody knows why. From his pocket, Sozen pulled a six-inch knife. Whether he carried it for self-defence, as a souvenir, for a friend, or as a tool of his trade being an artist, neither was even suggested in the police report. With the pub in panic, only a few saw the weapon, only a handful heard a girl scream “he’s got a knife”, and although Robert asked him to “put the knife away”, in a single fast swipe, Sozen confessed “I then stabbed the white boy with the glasses, then he fell to the floor”. And although almost everyone ran, even though Robert was unconscious and bleeding profusely, Linda kicked him again as he fled. (End) Called at 9:50pm, the Police arrived 3 minutes later, but with the landlord having cleaned-up, the pub didn’t look all that bad, bar the broken glass, the blood, a screaming girl, and Robert who lay silent. Nannan was detained on site, Linda was arrested at the ANC offices, the witnesses were rounded up, and Sozen was apprehended just two streets away, with the knife (given to a friend) quickly found. Transferred to Middlesex Hospital, being in a coma and with his organs mechanically assisted, having suffered a single stab wound above his right ear, so much force had been used that the blade had sliced through his 7mm thick skull and penetrated his temporal lobe, resulting in a massive haemorrhage. One week later, Robert died of his injuries, and Sozen was charged with his murder. Tried at the Old Bailey on the 18th of June 1970, of those involved in the fight, only the black men were convicted; with Kastree and Nannan sentenced to a 6-month suspended sentence and Linda sent down for 6 months for assault. But with Robert’s blood on the blade, Sozen’s fingerprints on the handle, an ID parade identifying him as the killer, and later confessing “I stabbed the white boy. I’m sorry I stabbed him”, 19-year-old trainee printer Sozenderan Moodley of South Africa was sentenced to life in prison. With an appeal of provocation dismissed, Sozen served part of his term at Wormwood Scrubs prison. But with the witness statements being such a confusing mess (that Peter identified the killer as Sozen’s brother Kastree), the crime-scene having been cleaned-up and neither man having never met before, no-one could explain the motive for the killing; not their friends, not their family, nor Sozen himself. So, was it political, was it personal, was he protecting a friend, was his defending himself, was it an act of drunken idiocy by a hot-tempered lad stuck in a melee, or was it as simple as black and white? The Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast has been researched using the original declassified police investigation files, court records, press reports and as many authentic sources as possible, which are freely available in the public domain, including eye-witness testimony, confessions, autopsy reports, first-hand accounts and independent investigation, where possible. But these documents are only as accurate as those recounting them and recording them, and are always incomplete or full of opinion rather than fact, therefore mistakes and misrepresentations can be made. As stated at the beginning of each episode (and as is clear by the way it is presented) Murder Mile UK True Crime Podcast is a 'dramatisation' of the events and not a documentary, therefore a certain amount of dramatic licence, selective characterisation and story-telling (within logical reason and based on extensive research) has been taken to create a fuller picture. It is not a full and complete representation of the case, the people or the investigation, and therefore should not be taken as such. It is also often (for the sake of clarity, speed and the drama) presented from a single person's perspective, usually (but not exclusively) the victim's, and therefore it will contain a certain level of bias and opinion to get across this single perspective, which may not be the overall opinion of those involved or associated. Murder Mile is just one possible retelling of each case. Murder Mile does not set out to cause any harm or distress to those involved, and those who listen to the podcast or read the transcripts provided should be aware that by accessing anything created by Murder Mile (or any source related to any each) that they may discover some details about a person, an incident or the police investigation itself, that they were unaware of.
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AuthorMichael J Buchanan-Dunne is a crime writer, podcaster of Murder Mile UK True Crime and creator of true-crime TV series. 
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