Reader's Digest Australia Dec/Jan 2025

64   December 2025/january 2026 reader ’ s digest TO THOSE WHO WORKED the sometimes treacherous seas along that part of the English coast it was a tragi- cally familiar discovery: the body of a drowning victim. There was very little to go by in determining the dead man’s identity. No wallet, no papers were found on his body. And there was little else of note, except for a tattoo on one hand and a watch, which had stopped working days before. For the local police the challenge was trying to work out who this poor soul was. Stymied at every attempt, investigators hit on the idea that the drowned man’s watch might pro- vide clues. It did. And their routine quest was transformed into a search through a complex web of swindles, double and triple identities and a cold-blooded killer. Grisly Catch Early Sunday morning, July 28, 1996, fisherman John Copik and his son Craig, left their home port in Brixham, Devon, on England’s south coast, aboard the trawler Malkerry . Once they were at sea, they let a long trawl- ing net out behind them. After about two hours the men hauled up the net. Finding few fish, they released it again. Another check a few hours later showed that things hadn’t improved. Growing testy at their bad luck, father and son decided to let out the net a third time and turned for home. Around 3pm they were less than 10km from shore. Copik called to his son, “Let’s haul ’em in, mate!” As the net emerged from the water, Copik could see that their luck had changed. It was loaded with fish, and there seemed to be an especially large one trapped inside. Probably a porpoise , the father thought. As the net drew closer, however, Copik saw something that sent a chill through him. A human face was star- ing at him, its mouth slightly ajar. The Copiks heaved the net on board and opened the end of it. The body and the mass of fish went slithering across the deck. Copik radioed the coast guard to tell them what he’d found. As the Malkerry sailed into port, Copik could see a police car at the dock. Among the officers waiting was Detective Constable Ian Clenahan. A young detective who had just been posted to the region, Clenahan bent over to have a look at the body. The dead man was fully dressed. The detective could see there was a large gash on the back of the corpse’s head. On his right wrist was a stainless steel Rolex Oyster watch. The next afternoon, the patholo- gist and coroner’s officer Robin Little, began to undress the corpse. Each item was put in a separate plastic bag: the brown leather shoes; the green corduroy pants; the watch, showing the time and date – 11.35, July 22. They noted that the watch was auto- matic and self-winding. There was not a single piece of readersdigest.com.au   65 Bonus Read identification on the body, but there was one possible identifying mark: a tattoo on the back of the man’s right hand. It appeared to be five stars joined together. The following day, a second, more detailed autopsy was done. Every major organ was removed, weighed, cut open and examined. All injuries were duly noted: a crack on the back of the skull; a well-defined bruise on the left hip; some minor lacerations on the chest and back that could have been caused by the body being dragged along the sea floor. None of these inju- ries, however, could have killed the man, the senior pathologist concluded. The blow to the head could have been sustained accidentally, perhaps as the deceased fell into the water. But the fact that the lungs were laden with water and that the man’s body had been found at sea led the pathologist to make his pronouncement: death by drowning. But that still left the nagging ques- tion: who was he? Time Will Tell Days went by, yet the police were no closer to identifying the dead man. Then on July 31 a friend suggested to Robin Little that since every Rolex comes with a serial number, perhaps the company might help. Little dialled Rolex’s UK office, about 360km away in Bexley, Kent, and explained the situa- tion to an employee, Carol Hyland. His friend’s information was indeed correct, Hyland confirmed. Since 1905, each Rolex made has had a serial number inscribed on its casing. Thus a record of every repair and ser- vicing to a watch could be obtained through Rolex’s central registry as part of the compa- ny’s quality control. Little slipped the watch out of its plas- tic bag and flipped it over. He could see no number. The watch, he said, must be a fake. “The number is on the shoulder of the casing, just where the bracelet joins the case,” Hyland explained. “You can’t see it without taking the pins out and removing the bracelet.” With a small needle, Little nudged one and then the other pin out and carefully removed the bracelet. There, inscribed on the side of the watch was a number: 1544402. For its full service history the company would need to open up the watch itself. Little obtained permission, and the watch was sent to Bexley. Days later, Carol Hyland called Clenahan with more information. There was very little to go by in determining the dead man’s identity ... except for a tattoo on one hand and a Rolex watch