A man in his mid-forties was propped up against the seawall. His legs were crossed, head lolled slightly to one side. It wasn't a bloody scene. In fact, he looked so natural, a couple on the beach the night before saw him and thought he was sleeping off a night of heavy drinking. When the man was still there the next morning, they called the cops.
By the time the cops arrived, rigor mortis had set in, placing his time of death around 2 am. He didn't look hurt, he just looked dead. A half-smoked cigarette had fallen onto his lap. Whatever killed him came on suddenly.
Six months later, going into the inquest, the coroner knew three things: the man's identity was a complete unknown, his death was not natural, nor was it an accident. 63 years later, we're no closer to solving the case.
We're not even certain what killed him. His heart and brain were totally fine. The only anomaly in the autopsy was the congestion of congealed blood in his stomach- a indication of poison. Only one problem. There was no trace of any poison in his body. He was likely poisoned, but we don't know with what or by whom.
All we know about the man is this: about 45, grey eyes, uncircumcised, clean shaven, athletic build. His hair was was reddish-brown, slightly receding, with some grey at the temples. His calves were exceedingly muscular, like those of a dancer or runner. His teeth were his own, and there was no identifying dental work. He had a couple of small scars on his left arm. His nails were well manicured, his shoes had been shined the day he died. He was a very heavy smoker, as shown by the yellow nicotine stains on his hands.
He had, in addition to the dropped cigarette, one tucked behind his ear, an open pack, and a box of matches. He had two combs, a bus ticket to the beach, and an unused train ticket to Henley Beach. He also had a pack of Juicy Fruit gum. No wallet, no ID, no money. He was neatly dressed, but curiously, all the labels from his clothes had been carefully removed. His last meal was a pasty, an English dish of beef inside a pastry shell.
At first, the body was identified as a local man, EC Johnson. However, this was proved false when Mr Johnson turned up at the police station to assure police he was, in fact, not dead. In fact, many people believed they knew the dead man. By 1953, he had been positively identified as 251 different people.
On 14 January, investigators were thrown a bone. A brown leather suitcase had been checked into the Adelaide railway station on 30 November, the night before the man died. The coat check boy recognized the dead man as the owner of the valise. The case contained: a red-checked housecoat, a red felt pair of slippers, four pairs of underwear, a shaving kit, pajamas, a pair of brown pants with sand in the cuffs, a screwdriver, a table knife whittled down into a shank, scissors, and a cargo stenciling brush. There was also a spool of orange thread, an unusual brand that wasn't sold in Australia. It had been used to mend the lining of the dead man's pants pocket.
All of the labels had been carefully cut out of his clothes, except in three instances. A tie had the name "T Keane," a laundry bag read "Keane," and a vest was labeled "Kean," with only one e. They also each had a dry cleaning tag. At first, they thought the clothes belonged to a missing sailor named Tom Keane. But his buddies said the corpse looked nothing like him, and the clothes were not his. The dry cleaning tags were a dead end, and there was no T Keane missing in any English-speaking country in the world. The only real clue came from the man's coat. It was American, and was sewn with a peculiar stitch. The only machine in the world that made that stitch was in the States, and the coats had never been imported. They were mass-produced, but had to be finished by hand before wearing. Thus, the man had either been in the US or knew someone who had.
At the inquest, it was noticed that the man's shoes were newly polished and in a better state than would be expected after wandering a beach all day. The pathologist theorized that someone had dumped the body on the beach, accounting for the state of his shoes, and also the lack of physical evidence of poisoning. Most poisons cause convulsions and vomiting. However, multiple people saw him on the beach while he was still alive, so that theory has some problems.
But the insanity hadn't even begun yet! The case was about to get far more mysterious.
Somerton Man went to Glenelg to see Jessie Ellen Harkness and her boyfriend Prosper McTaggart Thomson. Jessie, or 'Jestyn' as she was known, knew his identity but refused to disclose this to Police, who suppressed her name for reasons unknown. Jessie was Jewish and long after the Somerton Man died, stones were placed on his grave by her in the Jewish tradition.
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