100 Murder Cases

Murf the Surf pulled off NYC's biggest jewel heist

It was the perfect setting for a burglary: A cold and rainy evening in late October, meaning there'd be nary a witness for what would turn out to be the biggest jewel heist in New York City history.

In a scene straight out of a Hollywood thriller, two figures clad completely in black scaled a fence behind the American Museum of Natural History at W. 77th St., slinked across an inner courtyard and climbed a rickety set of fire stairs to the fifth floor, where they inched their way along a thin ledge trying desperately not to slip on the wet granite and tumble to a likely death.

The men tied a rope to a post, then took turns lowering themselves hand over hand to a window on the floor below, which they knew would be unlocked.

The pair entered the museum's dark and silent Morgan Memorial Hall of Minerals and Gems and stared in awe at the treasures awaiting in glass display cases — dozens of rare and priceless jewels including the 563-carat Star of India, a dazzling blue orb the size of a golf ball known as the world's largest sapphire.

The cat burglars looked at each each other and grinned, licking their lips in anticipation.

Knowing a guard wouldn't make his next round for at least a half hour, the two quickly got down to business. Using glass cutters, they carved holes in several cases and grabbed what they could.

When they were done, the nimble thieves left as silently as they came.

The daring caper was front-page news around the world. The Daily News of Oct. 31, 1964 breathlessly detailed how the heist had "touched off an international manhunt for a master burglar who has written a chapter in criminal history that rivals anything in fiction."

The Star of India, said to be more than 2 billion years old, wasn't the only well-known stone pilfered. Readers on this Halloween morning were absolutely horrified —and in some cases, mightily impressed — to learn the daredevil duo also made off with the 100-carat DeLong Star Ruby, which likewise reflected a star pattern. Nearly two dozen jewels were taken in all.

Worse, red-faced museum officials were forced to admit that a silent alarm system had been on the fritz for weeks.

Experts officially valued the haul at around $3 million (in today's money), though their true worth, they said, couldn't be measured in dollars. Because many of the gems were so identifiable, officials feared they would be smuggled overseas, cut down and sold.

While NYPD detectives didn't have much to go on, the case ended up solving itself a day later.

A Manhattan hotel bellhop tipped off cops that a trio of high-living surfer dudes from Miami Beach had been holding wild parties and doing drugs in their room. Though they hadn't checked out, he'd seen two of them leave with luggage the morning after the robbery.

Police searched the room and found burglar's tools, sneakers with bits of broken glass in the soles — and photos of the gems taken at the museum.

A call to Florida cops confirmed two of the guests, Jack Murphy, 27, and Allen Kuhn, 26, were suspected stickup artists and jewel thieves who'd long been under surveillance.

The third man, 29-year-old Roger Clark, was arrested in Manhattan, and he quickly confessed to being the gang's getaway driver. The FBI immediately busted Murphy and Kuhn at the latter's Miami home, where they lived with their stunning young girlfriends.

The jewels, however, were nowhere to be found.

The blond and bronzed Murphy, a renowned competitive surfing champ known as "Murf the Surf," was a fast-talking charmer who knew how to spin a yarn. He claimed he was also a master violinist and crack tennis player with an IQ over 130. And the papers ate it up.

Twice married and divorced, he ran a failed surf shop before meeting Kuhn, a swimming instructor who owned two boats and a big Caddy and seemed to live beyond his means.

There was good reason: The bona fide beach boys were seasoned thieves who preyed on tourists and Miami's upper crust, stealing jewelry and artwork and often making their getaway in speedboats.

As Miami cops turned up the heat, Murphy, Kuhn and Clark, a housepainter by trade, headed to New York in October 1964 with a plan to rob the rich and plunder the plethora of museums Manhattan had to offer.

They cased the Museum of Natural History several times, learning the guards' routines and the building's many exits and entrances, before pulling the big job on the night of Oct. 29.

Yet not even the quick arrests of Murphy and Kuhn could slow them down. While out on bail in Miami, they allegedly robbed and pistol-whipped actress Eva Gabor of "Green Acres" fame, taking a $25,000 ring and leaving her with a bruised face and a great story to tell Johnny Carson.

Strangely, the publicity turned the hardened criminals, especially the glib and dapper Murphy, into unlikely folk heroes. Crowds cheered when they walked into court. Reporters hung on their every word. Women swooned in their presence.

Three months after the museum job, the jewels had yet to be recovered. But facing hard time, the men struck a deal with prosecutors and agreed to have them returned in exchange for light sentences.

The Star of India and most of the other gems, which had been buried in the backyard of one of Kuhn's associates, were retrieved in a bus station locker in Miami.

Still missing was the DeLong ruby. In a strange twist months later, John D. MacArthur, the philanthropist behind the MacArthur "genius" grants, agreed to pay a $25,000 ransom to unknown underworld figures who said they had the gleaming red stone.

He enlisted the help of the Daily News, which sent reporter William Federici and photographer Dan Farrell to Florida to document the deal. After leaving the money at a drop, the men were directed to a public phone booth, where they found the ruby hidden under a panel.

By then, the larcenous trio had each begun three-year sentences on Rikers Island after pleading guilty to burglary and grand larceny.

They each served only two years. Clark, who died in 2007, and Kuhn, who died 10 years after that, went their separate ways. Murphy returned to Miami and his old ways.

In December 1967, months after being freed, he was in trouble again. He'd befriended two young secretaries at a brokerage firm who had stolen nearly $500,000 in negotiable securities, a job Murphy and another man tried to horn in on.

One sunny day, the women donned bikinis and took a boat ride with Murphy and the man.They never came back. Their bodies were found in a canal tied to concrete blocks. They had been bludgeoned and stabbed.

Murphy, who denied committing the murders, was given a life sentence.

He later claimed to have found God while behind bars — some saw it as a ploy for early release — and became a prison evangelist.

Released in 1986 after serving 19 years, Murphy continued to minister to convicts in prisons across the country. He died in Florida last September at age 83, still hitting the waves whenever he could and trying hard to prove his life wasn't a total wipeout.