Kerri Mazzuca: “I Did It” about killing Baby Moses
Keri Mazzuca admitted to killing her newborn son in 1997 and leaving his body in a charred cloth in a flowerbed near the Moses statue in Washington Park in Albany, N.Y. The Albany County District Attorney's Office released the police interview in response to a Freedom of Information Law request. Mazzuca was sentenced for manslaughter in April 2025.
By Elena Myst, Senior Investigative Reporter
SyndicatedNews | SNN.BZ
ALBANY, N.Y. — In the dim twilight of a September evening in 1997, a jogger stumbled upon a scene that would haunt the city for decades: the charred remains of a newborn boy, wrapped in a singed towel and hidden beneath the solemn gaze of the Moses statue in Washington Park. Dubbed “Baby Moses” by authorities, the tiny victim seemed destined to remain an enigma, his identity and killer swallowed by the shadows of time. But secrets, no matter how deeply buried, have a way of clawing their way back to the light. Twenty-seven years later, in a twist that reads like a thriller scripted by fate, Kerri Mazzuca—a seemingly ordinary 52-year-old from Altamont—found herself ensnared in the web of her own long-forgotten deed.
The case began as a whisper of tragedy. The infant’s body, discovered smoldering near the iconic statue, bore no clues—just the faint scent of desperation and fire. Investigators speculated on abandonment, perhaps a panicked act by a young mother overwhelmed by circumstance. But as leads evaporated into the cold Albany air, Baby Moses joined the ranks of unsolved mysteries, his file gathering dust while life marched on. Mazzuca, then a 26-year-old navigating her own hidden turmoil, slipped into anonymity, building a life that masked the storm within. Who could have imagined that DNA, that silent sentinel of truth, would one day shatter her facade?
Fast-forward to 2024, when genetic genealogy— the modern alchemist turning bloodlines into breakthroughs—revived the cold case. Through the FBI’s partnership with Othram, a forensic lab specializing in unraveling genetic puzzles, Baby Moses was finally named: the son of Kerri Mazzuca. The revelation struck like lightning. Police descended, and in a tense interrogation room, Mazzuca’s composure cracked. “I did it,” she confessed, her words unraveling 27 years of suppressed guilt. She admitted to smothering her newborn shortly after birth, wrapping him in a towel, and attempting to erase evidence with flames—a desperate bid to conceal what she described as an overwhelming fear.
The scintillating details emerged in waves: Mazzuca, pregnant and alone in her apartment, gave birth in secrecy. Overcome by panic, she silenced the child’s cries forever, then staged the scene in the park to mimic an accident. For nearly three decades, she lived undetected, raising questions that tantalize the mind—how does one carry such a shadow without it consuming them? Was it the weight of unspoken remorse, or the thrill of evasion, that kept her silent until science intervened?
Court proceedings added layers to the intrigue. Initially charged with second-degree murder and concealment of a human corpse in September 2024, Mazzuca navigated a labyrinth of legal maneuvers. By April 2025, she pleaded guilty to reduced charges of first-degree manslaughter and tampering with physical evidence in Albany County Court. Sentencing brought a dramatic close: 25 years in prison, a term that echoed the years her secret had festered.
According to court records detailed in public announcements and news reports, the plea deal reflected her cooperation, but not without emotional fireworks—Mazzuca expressed remorse in a tearful statement, while the judge underscored the gravity of her actions against an innocent life. No full indictment or sentencing transcripts were publicly accessible online beyond these summaries, but the case’s resolution highlights the relentless pursuit of justice in cold cases.
As Mazzuca begins her sentence, the story lingers like a ghost— a reminder that the past is never truly buried. In an era where DNA whispers secrets from the grave, how many more enigmas await their unraveling? Baby Moses, once a symbol of loss, now stands as a beacon of closure, his mother’s capture a scintillating testament to time’s unyielding grip.
