Murder: True Crime Stories - UNSOLVED: The Boy in the Box 2

Episode Date: August 7, 2025

For decades, investigators searched for answers to solve The Boy in the Box cold case. In this gripping conclusion, we unpack the moments that finally led to a breakthrough, from a chilling tip to the DNA match that identified Joseph Augustus Zarelli. But while his identity is no longer a mystery, the case still remains unsolved and his killer is still at large. Murder: True Crime Stories is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios. Listen wherever you get your podcasts. For ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Don’t miss out on all things Murder: True Crime Stories! Instagram: @murdertruecrimepod | @Crimehouse TikTok: @Crimehouse Facebook: @crimehousestudios X: @crimehousemedia YouTube: @crimehousestudios To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This is Crime House. Every cold case is a wound left open. For loved ones, for investigators, for anyone who stumbles across a name and wonders what happened. But in some cases, that wound never heals. because while every victim deserves justice, some get more attention than others. Usually, it has to do with family and friends. The more dedicated they are, the more likely the media is to spread information and highlight a case. But in 1957, something unusual happened.

The young boy was found dead on the outskirts of Philadelphia. No family stepped forward to claim him. And yet, this story captured the hearts of the entire country. Long after police had packed up the evidence and moved on, others couldn't let it go. The small group of believers kept searching, following hunches, testing theories, and refusing to give up on a child the world seemed unwilling to forget. And because of them, America's unknown child, eventually got his name back.

People's lives are like a story. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end, but you don't always know which part you're on. Sometimes the final chapter arrives far too soon, and we don't always get to know the real ending. I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder, True Crime Stories, a crime house original powered by Pave Studios, and now we are releasing twice a week every Tuesday and Thursday. At Crime House, we want to express our gratitude to you, our community, for making this possible.

Please support us by rating, reviewing, and following Murder, True Crime Stories, wherever you get your podcasts. And to enhance your murder true crime stories listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get ad-free listening, early access to every two-part series, and exciting bonus content. This is the second of two episodes on The Boy in the Box, one of America's most haunting cold cases. It's a story about loss, identity,

and the relentless search for answers. Last time, I told you how a young boy was found murdered on the outskirts of Philadelphia in 1957. His body discarded like trash in the woods. I explained how his discovery set off a sprawling investigation that yielded more questions than answers and how after decades without progress, the case eventually went cold.

Today, I'll look at what happened when authorities teamed up with a group of retired investigators to breathe new life into the case and how their relentless efforts helped bring the boy's story back into the light. Along the way, I'll uncover new leads, surprising twists, and finally, the little boy's name. All that and more coming up. No frills, delivers. Get groceries delivered to your door from No Frills with PC Express. Shop online and get $15 in PC optimum points on your first five orders. Shop now at nofrills.ca. In February 1957, the boy in the box was discovered in the woods outside of Philadelphia.

At first, detectives assumed the case would be open and shut. He was so young, they assumed someone would report him missing. If not, there were plenty of clues at the crime scene that might explain what happened to him. But when weeks turned into months and then years, their confidence faded. Some investigators were forced to move on. Philadelphia had its fair share of violent crime and the workload never slowed, but others couldn't let it go. One of those people was Remington Bristow.

He'd worked in the Philadelphia Medical Examiner's office and spent decades chasing down leads in the case. And by the time Bristow passed away in 1993, nearly four decades after the boy was discovered, he was convinced he'd solved it. His theory centered on a young woman who'd grown up in a foster home, far from where the boy was found.

Bristow believed she was the boy's mother. For years, he'd begged his superiors to take a closer look at her. They refused. Until five years after Bristow's death, when someone in the department finally decided to listen. In early 1998, Captain Pat Dempsey of the Philadelphia Police Department reopened the boy in the box case. He assigned it to Tom Augustine, a 52-year-old veteran detective.

The directive was clear. Find out if the woman in question, whose name was Anna Marie, was the boy's mother. On February 23, 1998, almost 41 years to the day the boy was discovered, Detective Augustine and another officer drove out to the foster home where Anna Marie had grown up. The property was not welcoming. Signs lined the driveway, warning trespassers to stay out. Augustine wasn't phased. He pulled up to the house and rang the doorbell.

Moments later, a man stepped onto the porch. His name was Arthur Nicoletti. He was the man who used to run the foster home with his wife, Catherine. Standing beside him was Anna Marie. his stepdaughter, and now, wife. At some point after she came of age and Catherine died, Anna Marie had married the man who raised her. It was a shocking twist,

but Detective Augustine brushed it aside for the moment. Instead, he asked Anna Marie point-blank if she had a son who died around 1957. She would have been about 20 years old at the time. Anna Marie said, Yes, she'd lost a son years ago. But not in the way Bristow or Augustine imagined. She said the boy had died in a freak accident. He'd been electrocuted while on a coin-operated ride outside of a store.

She said there should be more records to confirm it. Back at the precinct, Augustine pulled the files and confirmed her story. Anna Marie's son wasn't the boy in the box. It seemed like once again the case was veering towards a dead end. But before that could happen, Augustine got some help from an unexpected ally. Around that time, another group of investigators had, had also taken an interest in the boy in the box, they called themselves the V-Doc Society, named after the famed 18th century French detective Eugene Francois V-Doc.

The society was based in Philadelphia and operated like a murder-solving supper club. Its members included retired cops, forensic experts, profilers, and medical examiners. people with decades of experience who still wanted to put their skills to use. Each month, they gathered in the historic public ledger building downtown to talk through cold cases, the ones that haunted them and the ones they thought they could still solve. Among the group were two men with deep ties to the boy in the box. William Kelly, a retired Philadelphia detective who'd been at the crime scene, in 1957, and Joseph McGillan, a longtime colleague of Remington Bristow's from the medical examiner's

office. Bristow himself had been a member of the V-Doc Society shortly before his death. He'd always wanted them to take on the Boy in the Box case. In March 1998, just a month after Detective Augustine visited Anna Marie, the Society finally agreed to consider it. When the group gathered that month, they reviewed the files together. They looked over everything from the crime scene photos to the autopsy reports to the evidence. It was clear that there was a lot to go on, and so they eventually came to a decision. The V-Doc Society would take on the case. Over the next few months, the society worked with Detective Augustine to investigate the case from scratch.

Philadelphia police were happy to have their help. As far as the authorities were concerned, the more eyes the better, especially since the society was full of seasoned professionals who could lend real insight. They revisited old theories, looked at the evidence with fresh eyes, and considered using new forensic tools to track down leads. It seemed like they were making serious progress when in the fall of 1998 the case got another boost, this time from a national TV audience.

On October 3rd, 1998, America's Most Wanted aired a segment on The Boy in the Box. It outlined the basics of the case, the box in the woods, the mystery of the boy's identity, and the long list of failed theories. At the end, the show asked viewers to come forward with any tips they might have. One of those viewers was George Knowles, man living in New Jersey at the time. He'd grown up in Philadelphia and remembered the story from his childhood.

Watching the America's Most Wanted segment brought those memories, flooding back. And now, decades later, he was determined to get involved. Soon after seeing the episode, George developed a website dedicated to The Boy in the Box. He wanted it to be a place where people could gather tips, theories, and background information. When the site went live the following spring, it became a hub for amateur sleuths. Some tips were promising. Others were outlandish, but the volume alone was staggering. Within months, the site had more than a million visitors. The boy in the box had haunted detectives for decades.

Now he was haunting the Internet, too. In the meantime, Philadelphia authorities were preparing for another major step. On November 3, 1998, the boy was exhumated. the boy was exhumed from his pauper's grave. This decision served two purposes. One was symbolic. Local residents had raised funds for a proper burial site in Ivy Hill Cemetery in a plot donated by the grounds.

The other was practical. It gave forensic experts a chance to retrieve DNA, something that hadn't been possible back in 1957. Detective William Kelly attended the exhumation and accompanied the remains to the medical examiner's office. After spending four decades on the case, he felt a personal responsibility to the little boy. But all those years had wreaked havoc on the body, which had deteriorated significantly. By then, he was little more than skin and bones. Forensic specialists knew the odds of extracting nuclear DNA, which includes both maternal and paternal lines, were slim.

They figured they had a better chance of recovering mitochondrial DNA, which is only passed down through the mother's side, yet easier to get under these sorts of conditions. If they could extract even a small sample, it might help them answer the question that had evaded detectives for over. over 50 years. Who was the boy? And maybe with that, who had put them in that box? And why? This is a true story.

It happened right here in my town. One night, 17 kids woke up, got out of bed, walked into the dark, and they never came back. I'm the director of Barbarian. A lot of people die in a lot of weird ways. You're not going to find it in the news because the police covered everything all up. On August days.

This is where the story really starts. Weapons. After exhumining the boy in the box in November, 1998, medical examiners were able to extract a two. for DNA testing. It was a small victory and one they hoped would yield a breakthrough. There was still no known relative to compare it to, but authorities believe that might change. With the DNA extraction process complete, the boy could finally be laid back to rest. On November 11, 1998, he was reburied, not in a pauper's grave, but beneath a black granite stone in Philadelphia's Ivy Hill Cemetery.

It was a quiet plot shaded by large trees. No one knew the boy's faith, if he had one at all, so a minister, a priest, and a rabbi each offered prayers. As a bagpiper played softly in the background, detectives, reporters, and everyday Philadelphians looked on. Some wept, many left toys. it was more kindness than the boy had probably ever experienced. Detectives like William Kelly and Joseph McGillen returned often in the years that followed.

So did strangers. They treated the boy like a lost son, placing flowers, stuffed animals, and handwritten notes at his grave. Meanwhile, the case remained open. Scientists kept working with the little they had. the single baby tooth extracted from the boy's remains, and when a few years passed and DNA testing methods improved, they finally made progress. In 2001, after several failed attempts,

the DNA lab managed to extract mitochondrial DNA from the boy's tooth. Now, if investigators could find a maternal relative, any woman from the boy's family line, they could potentially confirm the boy's identity. But the problem remained. They had no idea who his family was. It's not like they could go around demanding DNA samples from anyone who seemed suspicious.

Not to mention, nearly 45 years had passed since the boy was discovered. His mother might have already died, and any other relatives moved away. Once again, it felt like they'd, made progress only to hit the brakes. But just when investigators were debating what to do, they received a phone call that changed everything. In June 2002, 56-year-old detective Tom Augustine was feeling weighed down by the case. He'd received thousands of tips, some from the America's Most Wanted segment, others from the website created by George Knowles.

but none had panned out. Then came a call from a psychiatrist in Cincinnati, Ohio. One of her patients had phoned her at 2 a.m. the night before, insisting she contacted the Philadelphia police on their behalf. Apparently, the patient had information about the boy in the box. Augustine had been chasing ghosts for years. He knew better than to get his hopes up, but he was curious, and the psychiatrist sounded sincere. He decided to go speak to this woman himself.

So Augustine made a plan. He called up retired detectives Joseph McGillan and William Kelly from the V-Doc Society, and the three of them traveled to Cincinnati together. The three detectives met the tipster at her psychiatrist's office. her name was Martha and she said she'd been holding on to information about the boy in the box for years after recently seeing a TV program about the boy

she was finally ready to tell the truth over the course of several hours Martha told the detectives a disturbing story one that her doctor had apparently heard many times before she said that when she was 11 years old back in 1955, she'd lived in Philadelphia with her mother. One day, Martha's mom took her on a drive to the outskirts of the city.

Eventually, they arrived at a house, and her mother handed someone there an envelope. Martha assumed it had money inside. In return, they were given a little boy. They called him Jonathan. He came to live with them, but he wasn't treated like family. Martha claimed her mother sexually abused her and that she'd trafficked Jonathan for the same reason. According to Martha, her mother kept him confined to the basement

where he slept on a makeshift bed surrounded by coal bins and cardboard boxes. His toilets was a drain in the floor. The boy lived in those conditions for nearly two years until one day in February, 1957. He got sick while being bathed and vomited in the tub. Martha said that was when her mother flew into a rage. According to her, she watched as her mother slammed the boy to the floor, then beat him until he was dead. afterward her mother wrapped the body in a blanket

then she drove Martha and the boy to the woods just outside the city and that was where she left him in a box the detectives were stunned and torn Kelly and McGillan thought Martha was telling the truth her account was harrowing and it had the text texture of real memory, the kind you don't forget, and that you can't make up. But Augustine wasn't so sure. The facts Martha shared were mostly already public. They'd been discussed on television specials and written up in newspapers, and while her psychiatrist claimed that

Martha had been telling the same story for 13 years, there were no notes or documentation from those sessions to prove it. When pressed, the psychiatrist said she was more concerned with patient care than taking meticulous notes, which was incredibly frustrating for the detectives to hear. They had absolutely no way to verify that Martha or the psychiatrist were telling the truth. Given all that, the president of the V-Doc Society, William Fleischer, was equally cautious. He didn't dismiss Martha outright, but he wasn't ready to believe her credibility either. The only way to move forward was to corroborate her story, and that meant returning to the Philadelphia home where she said the abuse had happened. There was an issue, though. Someone else lived there now. The current

residents were a single mother and her 12-year-old daughter. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of crime scene technicians combing through her house, and she definitely didn't want to frighten her daughter with rumors of a murder. The district attorney's office wasn't eager to approve a search warrant either. They didn't think Martha's story rose to the level of probable cause. So Augustine, Kelly, and McGillan tried a different approach. They kept begging the woman to let them in. And eventually she agreed. On one condition, she asked them to do it during school hours while her daughter was out of the house. On a crisp fall day, nearly 45 years after the boy was found, the detectives came knocking. They started with a bathroom where Martha said the boy

had died. It was pristine, renovated with new tile, a new tub, and fresh grout. It looked like it had just been scrubbed from top to bottom. There was nothing to be found. So they moved on to the basement. There they found what looked like the outline of a coal bin. Kelly and McGillen were hopeful. It matched Martha's description. Augustine wasn't convinced, though.

He pointed out that most of the homes in the neighborhoods had coal bins back in the 50s. It didn't prove. anything. And ultimately, neither did anything else. There was no physical evidence, no forensic link to the boy, nothing they could hang their hopes on. Still, they didn't want to leave without exhausting all of their options. Before heading out, the detectives canvassed the neighborhood, asking if anyone remembered Martha or her parents. A few did. They described the couple as ordinary salt-of-the-earth types, both were educators, no one recalled ever seeing a young boy in the home. To Kelly and McGillen, this supported Martha's story. If the boy had been hidden away

in the basement, neighbors had probably never seen him. On the other hand, it only deepened Augustine's doubts. In the end, most members of the V-Doc Society agreed. By September, 2004, two years after Martha's initial tip, they formally concluded that her accounts, while chilling, could not be verified. What seemed like the biggest break in decades had been shot down. And yet, Kelly and McGillen couldn't let it go. There was something about Martha's story that felt too specific, too visceral to dismiss. entirely. They kept circling back to it, debating the possibilities. Was she telling the truth about her mother? Or was she simply unwell? A woman so lost in delusion that she had come to believe

her own fiction. These were the questions the detectives were never able to answer. But as frustrating as the false leads had been, the case wasn't going cold again. Not yet. Because not long after the V-Doc Society closed the door on Martha's story, a new scientific tool opened another, one that would finally bring the boy in the box's story closer to a resolution. true crime podcast delivering raw, real, and absolutely gripping episodes every single week. I dig deep to uncover fascinating details of heinous true crime cases while exploring criminology and psychology theories. I take you into the absolute darkest corners of the human psyche, my favorite territory, and present cases like you've never heard them before. Follow and listen to Psychopedia everywhere you get your podcasts.

In the early 2000s, Investigators believe they were closer than ever to finding out who the boy in the box really was. A woman named Martha claimed the boy had been trafficked and purchased by her mother, who then murdered him in a fit of rage. It was a shocking story, and while it seemed possible, detectives weren't able to verify Martha's account, and so the VDoc Society, who'd been investigating the case for years, turned back to an earlier theory, the one proposed by Remington Bristow when he was still alive.

What if the boy had been raised at the foster home near the crime scene? Detectives had spoken to Anna Marie in 1998, the woman who Bristow believed had been the boy's mother. She insisted the boy wasn't hers. At the time, detectives took Anna Marie at her word, but they had. hadn't run a DNA test. What if she was lying? In 2005, the society decided to follow up again. Thanks to the tooth they'd extracted back in 1998,

forensic investigators already had a mitochondrial DNA profile for the boy. Now, they wanted to compare it against a national DNA database, and they wanted to test Anna Marie. By then, she was in her late 60s and living in a nursing home. If the boy was her son, time was running out to learn the truth. Still, they couldn't just walk in and take a sample. They needed a court order. Over the next two years, the VDOC Society lobbied the courts to grant them that order.

In 2007, the judge finally made a decision. There was sufficient cause to obtain a DNA sample from Anna Marie. One day that fall, detectives made their way to the nursing home. Anna Marie wasn't doing well and barely registered their presence. With the help of a nurse, they took a few swabs from the inside of Anna Marie's cheek. For Kelly, Augustine, McGillen, and so many others who'd worked the case for decades, this moment felt like the one they'd been waiting for. If the DNA was a match, it wouldn't just solve the mystery,

it would vindicate Remington Bristow and bring closure to a case that had haunted Philadelphia for half a century. After weeks of waiting in October 2007, William Kelly got the call. A homicide detective in Philadelphia was on the line. He hesitated before giving him. Kelly, the news. The DNA results were in. Anna Marie was not the mother. Kelly felt the floor drop out beneath him. After everything, all the tips, the theories, the endless rabbit holes, they were right back to where they started. For more than a decade after that, the case

was in limbo. There were no new leads, no new suspects, and no breakthroughs. But behind the scenes, a quiet revolution was taking place in forensic science. And in 2019, Philadelphia authorities were allowed to exume the boy's body for a second time. The goal was to apply the newest DNA technology, specifically a technique called genetic genealry. It had helped solve the Golden State Killer case by allowing detectives to build a family tree, which eventually led them to the elusive serial killer. Investigators now hoped it would solve this one.

Three years later, they succeeded. It had been 65 years since the body was found. But now, thanks to genetic testing, they had a name. After scouring different public databases, investigators found a maternal relative who'd uploaded her DNA to a site called Jedmatch. It turned out the woman's mother was the boy's first cousin. Based on that information, investigators were able to find the boy's parents and a birth certificate. In December 22, the Philadelphia Police Department held a press conference to make the announcement. America's unknown child was no longer anonymous.

His name was Joseph Augustus Zarelli. He was born on January 13, 1953, making him just four years old when he was killed. It was a powerful moment for the investigators who had spent their careers chasing a little more than whispers, for the public who had carried this mystery in their collective memory for generations, and for Joseph himself, who finally had what every child deserves. A name. Still, the case isn't over yet, though Joseph's identity, is now known. His murder remains officially unsolved. At the press conference, officials said they had their suspicions about who was responsible, but because the investigation is still ongoing,

they weren't able to name any suspects. Journalists have identified his mother as Betsy Abel of West Philadelphia. She would have been 21 years old when she gave birth to her. to Joseph. His father is thought to be Augustus Gus Zarelli, also from West Philadelphia, who would have been 26. Gus's father was an Italian immigrant who founded a successful construction company, and Gus was a concrete contractor. Relatives say he may have not known about Joseph. In the past, Betsy had given another child up for adoption. Those who knew her think it's possible she did the same with Joseph. And while both Gus and Betsy are now deceased, other family members, including several of Joseph's half-siblings, are still alive. But they

were all born after he died and are adamant that they know nothing about him. And so the truth remains just out of reach. For now. This is a story about persistence in the mysteries that refuse to stay buried. It's about dedicated detectives like Remington Bristow, William Kelly, Joseph McGillan, Tom,

Augustine, and the V-Doc Society. But at its heart, this story is about a child whose life was short, brutal and lonely. A little boy who is known only by a nickname in a case number for decades. His name was Joseph.

He mattered. And now, he can finally be remembered not as a nameless victim, but as a human being. Thanks so much for joining us. I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder True Crime Stories. Come back next time for the story of another murder and all the people it affected. Murder. True Crime Stories is a Crime House original powered by Pave Studios here at Crime House.

We want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on social media at Crime House on. TikTok and Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow. Murder, True Crime Stories, wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your Murder True Crime Stories listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts.

You'll get every episode ad-free, and instead of having to wait for each episode of a two-part series, you'll get access to both at once. Plus, exciting bonus content. We'll be back on Tuesday. Murder True Crime Stories is hosted by me, Carter Roy, and is a crime house original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the Murder True Crime Stories team,

Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Natalie Pertzowski, Sarah Camp, Alex Burns, and Russell Nash. Thank you for joining us. Thank you.