In January 1916, a shocking report out of the Bronx described an attack so brutal and senseless that it stirred an entire neighborhood into fear and anger.
Three-week-old Julius Clemens had been left for only moments in his go-cart outside a Crotona Parkway shop while his mother stepped inside with his older sister.
According to Mrs. Beatrice Clemens, a man had been seen stooping near the carriage. Minutes later, as the family walked away from the store, the little girl cried out that something was wrong with the baby’s mouth.
The infant was in terrible pain. A dark stain marked his mouth, and doctors later said he had suffered severe burns from lysol poured down his throat.
Detectives quickly swarmed the neighborhood, urged on by horrified women who demanded the attacker be found. But the case soon grew troubling. Police could not understand why no one had heard the baby cry, why no one at the store remembered the family or any disturbance, and why no trace of the supposed attacker or an empty bottle could be found.
Then investigators discovered a nearly full bottle of lysol at the Clemens home.
Baby Dying; Acid Poured in Mouth
BRONX, New York. — As three-weeks-old Julius Clemens lay in his go-cart outside a store in Crotona Parkway yesterday, crowds passing on either side, a man stepped up to the carriage, forced open the baby’s mouth and poured lysol down his throat.
The death of the burned baby is expected hourly. Meanwhile, detectives, spurred on by the women of the neighborhood, are searching the district.
The deed has stirred the Bronx no less than the East Side was aroused by ripper crimes a year ago.
According to the mother, Mrs. Beatrice Clemens, she took the baby in his new go-cart and her daughter Leonia, four, on a marketing trip at 9:30. They stopped in front of Anthony Disalvo’s shop.
Leonia skipped into the store to buy a penny piece of candy. Mrs. Clemens, who had placed the go-cart near the curb, facing the store, stepped inside the door for two or three seconds. She had noticed a tall man, with a brown felt hat and dark suit and a mustache, stooping near the baby.
Case Puzzles Detectives
Having bought the candy, the family group moved south, past a police booth, for a block and a half. Then, Mts. Clemens says, Leonia cried out:
“Mamma, mamma, look at the baby’s mouth!”
The baby was writhing with pain. A dark brown streak spread from one side of his mouth. She ran several blocks to the home of Mrs. Julia Krubia.
Awaiting the ambulance, the two women gave Julius the white of an egg.
Detectives cannot understand why the baby did not cry out. Doctors at Fordham Hospital, where the infant was taken, told the police that a baby suffering from burns would inevitably cry. Further, Acting Captain Andrew Wise and his men have been unable to understand why the mother, since the baby was facing her, would not see some one standing over and deliberately pouring, not throwing, lysol.
No one at the store remembered Mrs. Clemens, Leonia, or any disturbance. No trace would be found of a man answering the vague description Mrs. Clemens gave. A thorough search of the neighborhood did not reveal an empty lysol bottle.
At Mrs. Clemen’s home a bottle of lysol, with a few drops gone, was found. It was practically full, however.
News of the crime did not reach the police until two hours after it was committed. Then it was telephoned to the 7th Branch Detective Bureau by the father, Charles Clemens, a mill worker, who has lately been out of employment. He had received the news over the telephone from Mrs. Krubia’s apartment.
Twenty detectives were put on the case. They used automobiles to cover ground quickly, men taking up each angle of the case at once. They have been unable to find any clue.
According to Detectives John F. O’Meara and James Gigilio, who questioned Mrs. Clemens, she acted a little strangely, with a coldness and reserve not usually associated with women under emotional excitement.
Since their marriage, six years ago, the Clemenses have lived at the Wilton Avenue flat. They were the first ones in the building. Several neighbors said they were always apparently happy. They had longed for a boy, and when Julius, a ten-and-a-half pound baby, was born, their longing was fulfilled.
Source: New-York Tribune. New York, N.Y. January 28, 1916.
