As ‘spy house’ crumbles, betrayed neighbours wait
MONTCLAIR, N.J.— Amid the 75 houses inside the oak-lined, no-outlet neighbourhood, a single home stands unoccupied, a celebrity eyesore.
Inside the house, the baseboards have been torn from the walls, with wires visibly protruding. The back deck is deteriorating and the foundation may be pitched slightly toward the wildlife preserve adjacent to the back yard.
Around here, in a section of town called Fieldstone, everyone knows the peachcoloured colonial with a sagging facade as the spy house, where a flock of FBI agents arrested the Murphy family six years ago, on June 27, 2010.
Richard and Cynthia Murphy were really Vladimir and Lidiya Guryev, Russian spies, part of a Northeast corridor cell that was soon sent back to Moscow by the U.S. government in an exchange. The Guryevs and their two talented, popular daughters, Katie and Lisa, became an inspiration for the FX show The Americans.
They are long gone, but the unoccupied house remains a frustrating story of its own and an unwanted symbol of betrayal for the community.
I lived a block away from the Guryevs. And every time I pass the vacant house, I recite a bit of narrative nonfiction: The elegant Russian spy would stop to pet my dog each morning on her way to the bus stop.
Neighbours who resided even closer, who knew the family better, remain considerably more affected by the spectacle of the corroding, four-bedroom house.
“The whole thing is pretty creepy on a psychological level,” said Elizabeth Lapin, who lives about 60 metres from the spy house. “The spies resumed a normal life in Moscow, and we’re left with this reminder. The neighbourhood was wounded, and it became part of a TV show. Until the house has another family, the story isn’t written.”
Considering the circumstances, few of us expected the house to sell quickly.
The FBI tore the place apart on the day the Guryevs were arrested, after dragging them away in handcuffs.
That began a Dickensian, bureaucratic process: More than a year passed before the family’s green Honda Civic was repossessed from the driveway; two more years went by before the place was technically put up for sale by the U.S. Marshals Service in April 2013.
On Nov. 29, 2012, the United States assumed ownership from “Cynthia Murphy.” On Apr. 27, 2015, the Federal National Mortgage Association, or Fannie Mae, took over property tax payments ($3,858 per quarter, currently) to Montclair township, on behalf of the government.
Then, on May 16, Santander Bank, based in Boston, acquired the deed as a lienholder.
The Russians, it turned out, owed money.
The sales process was reset to square one this spring. The federal government had by then remitted about $38,000 in property taxes on the spy house over the last three years. The Marshals Service also kept the home winterized and occasionally sent landscapers to mow the lawn.
But when Santander first took over, the property was ignored and the weeds grew higher. Public Service Electric & Gas had taken to parking its equipment in the driveway. A contractor came to look at the crumbling front steps but did not return.
“It’s not safe,” said Chris Delaney, who lives across the street from the spy house. “It could catch fire. You worry if there will be people squatting in there, and what bothers me the most is it’s a giant waste of money. What was the government doing for five years?”
There is some hope now that the private bank will move quickly to improve the property, ideally with an eye toward selling it.
Until then, residents of Fieldstone continue to gape at the house and recount haunting stories and images of the Guryevs, and of the arrests.