Who Killed Jam Master Jay? | 2
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At around 7:30 on the cold, rainy evening of Wednesday, October 30th, 2002, someone walked into the lounge of a recording studio in Jamaica, Queens in New York City and fatally shot Jason Mizell with a .40 caliber gun, once to the body and another to the head. He died instantly. And whoever pulled the trigger just walked away.

This was big news. Mizell was better known as Jam Master Jay, the DJ behind Run DMC, one of the group's founders in 1982, and one of the most important hip-hop artists in the known universe. This was the latest in a series of rap star murders. Tupac Shakur was gunned down in 1996. Six months later, Notorious B.I.G. was shot to death.

Just outside his studio, fans paid tribute to the man who helped propel a group of rappers into the musical mainstream. Police are looking at clues trying to figure out who silenced the rap star and why. There were witnesses, but they disagreed on what actually happened. There may have been leads, but they all went nowhere. What happened to the security camera footage? Was it tampered with?

And why didn't the police follow up properly? For more than two decades, this cold-blooded murderer has gone unsolved. Why would anyone want Jam Master Jay, who by all accounts was a great guy, dead? Was it the result of some feud or beef? What about those strange insurance policies? What are these stories about the debts, the IRS, and a missing 10 kilos of cocaine? Was there a connection to the murder of Tupac Shakur in Las Vegas back in 1996?

And what did 50 Cent have to do with all this? It's a confusing and complicated tale of music and murder and plenty of twists and turns. I'm Alan Cross, and have I got a story for you. This is Uncharted, Crime and Mayhem in the Music Industry, Episode 2. Who killed Jam Master Jay? According to the people who knew him, Jam Master Jay was a really great guy.

He didn't have a reputation involving crime or drugs. He was a fixture in the community, credited with doing things for kids, including founding an academy for wannabe DJs. He wasn't violent. And he supported an entourage of people, his mom, siblings, three kids, assorted cousins and nephews, as well as some friends and their families. And as a member of Run DMC, the man was a legend to anyone who loved hip-hop. He was idolized, a member of a world-famous pioneering hip-hop group,

So again, I'll ask, why did he end up dead? That's KRS-One and Marley Marl with Killer Rapper. A lot of truth and anger on that track.

Like I said, Jam Master Jay's real name was Jason Mizell. He was born in Brooklyn, learned to play multiple musical instruments, and then moved to Queens. Jason did get into petty burglary as a kid, but he was scared straight early. Jason urged everyone he knew to stay away from crime. Music became his thing. This was the late 70s when hip-hop culture, rap, breakdancing, and graffiti art was taking shape.

Jay grew up in Hollis, a tight one-by-one-mile neighborhood filled with working-class Black families. Because of the ethics drilled into him by his mom, Jay gained a reputation of being good, a peacekeeper, someone who could smooth over almost any situation. This came in handy in a community where drug dealing was common and distrust of the police was high. Some of Jay's closest friends ended up going to jail for dealing, but not Jay. He stayed out of it. He did not want to disappoint his mother.

He met DJ Death Lou Houck, an Atlantic City turntablist who taught Jason how to crossfade and beatmix properly. And by the time he was 13, Jason was DJing at parties. He soon had a name for himself, Jesse Jace. And once he was upgraded to a pair of Technics SL-1200 turntables, he'd stay up all night perfecting his moves. If he broke one, well, his mom would buy him another.

After playing drums in some garage bands that went nowhere, he joined up with Joseph Simmons and Daryl McDaniels, the Run and DMC in Run DMC. They had a debut record called Sucker MCs that had done well enough for The Next Step to be doing some live shows, and that meant that they needed a DJ. And that is when they were connected with Jay, and together, the three of them put together a couple of routines.

When it came to play their first show in New York City, Jay showed up wearing a black Godfather hat, a black Adidas jacket with three stripes running down the shoulders, and a pair of white Adidas shoes with no laces. It had an authentic street vibe, a look of the culture that just worked. And that became Run DMC's wardrobe. It was sure a lot better than the plaid jackets Run and DMC had been wearing. And this is also when Jassy Jace became Jam Master Jay.

Momentum picked up fast. Shows would start with Jay alone on stage as hype man, getting the crowd ready. And by the time Run and DMC came out, the crowds were going wild. This was different because DJs were supposed to stay in the back and stay quiet while the MCs did their thing, but not with Jay. You might be able to make the argument that he was hip hop's first celebrity DJ. Things really began to take shape in the spring of 1994 when Run-DMC released a debut album. This was the first single.

Run-DMC took off, not just with music, but in other areas. They got a shoe endorsement deal from Adidas, something that was just starting to happen with professional athletes. Shows got bigger, records sold more. And then, in 1986, producer Rick Rubin pulled out a rock record from the 1970s so everyone could hear the beat that started one of the songs.

Run DMC did some freestyling over those bits and thought it was pretty cool. They had no idea who Aerosmith was. In fact, they thought that Toys in the Attic was the name of the band, not the title of the album. Rubin said, if you guys really want a breakthrough, then you should cover this song. Run and DMC weren't convinced, but Jay thought it was a great idea. Aerosmith, whose career was on the decline at the time, agreed. What did they have to lose?

The result was a monster hit that went a long way towards breaking down the barriers between rock and hip-hop and black and white kids. It also made Run-D.M.C. international stars. She told me how to walk this way. She told me to rock this way.

Jay loved the ride, and he made a good deal of money, which he loved to share with family and friends. One Christmas, he bought five cars for people. He'd also go through Hollis door-to-door giving away Christmas gifts. Jay had the Hollis crew. These were people he knew, many of them drug dealers and petty criminals, that he took off the street and gave them legitimate jobs with the Run DMC organization. People in the neighborhood looked up to Jay as someone who offered hope and motivation.

By the end of the 1980s, though, Run-DMC's style of hip-hop was increasingly being eclipsed by gangster rap, as black artists began to use music to express anger and frustration. Things got a lot more aggressive. Jay saw that things were changing, so he pivoted in an entrepreneurial way. The first thing he did was formed JMJ Records, his own label, which scouted for, developed, and signed new talent.

This included a recording studio on Merrick Boulevard between Jamaica Boulevard and 89th, right in the old neighborhood. It was above a Jamaican supermarket and five minutes from where he grew up. This was a powerful message. Jay had made it out of the neighborhood, but then came back to help out. One of the guys he discovered was a young rapper named Curtis Jackson, who called himself 50 Cent. Meanwhile, he kept helping out the friends and family in his entourage. His reputation for being a good guy was pretty much spotless.

But then came Wednesday, October 30th, 2002. Jay was at a studio on Merrick Boulevard. There were a number of people present. People who knew Jay said that he was jumpy and nervous that night. And for some reason, he had a gun with him. Jay's nephew, Rodney Jones, was there. He was part of a group called Rusty Waters and was working on new music. He was in the control room with Mike Bonds, also known as Mike B, another friend of Jay's. A female singer named Yare Concepcion was there.

Jay was sitting on a couch in the lounge playing video games with a friend named Tony Rincon, who Jay had hired as his car sitter, someone to watch his vehicle while he was out and about. Jay was closest to the door. Lydia High was there too. She was the office manager and the brother of Randy Allen, Jay's business partner in the label and the studio. She was sitting on another couch across from Jay and Tony. Sometime before 7.30, someone buzzed the door on the street. That person was let in.

Whoever it was climbed a long staircase and then went down a long hallway. That person was wearing dark clothing and had his hood up. When he walked in the door, the first person he saw was Lydia. There was a brief heated conversation. Lydia tried to run but was stopped by a second man blocking the door who ordered her to get on the floor. The guy in the hoodie then walked up to Jay on the couch. At that point, Tony's phone, which had fallen to the floor, may have started to ring so he reached for it. That's when the first shot rang out.

Tony was hit in the ankle. Then a second shot. It hit Jay in the head, killing him instantly. Because of the floor plan of the studio, none of the people in the control room could see what was going on. They only heard the shots. By the time they got into the lounge, the two men had left. Lydia was screaming on the floor, Tony was bleeding from the leg, and Jay was dead. This is where the mysteries and the confusion begin. Who killed Jam Master Jay? And why would anyone want him dead?

Who would have a motive to kill Jam Master Jay of Run DMC? There are suspects and suspicions, and this is going to take a lot of deconstruction. Let's go back to the studio on the night of October 30th, 2002. Someone was buzzed into the building at around 7:30.

That would seem to suggest that someone on the inside knew who it was at the door. All they'd have to do is look at the security camera to see who was there. If the visitor was known, well, come on in. One anonymous tip from inside the police department said that Lydia High, the studio manager, buzzed someone in, someone she knew. But Lydia didn't have much to say, claiming that she saw little because she was ordered to lie face down on the floor when the man in the hoodie came in.

This is all she had." I quote from the police report: "Two black males entered the lounge. Both men had guns. Upon entering, one man remained in the doorway. The other man, who was wearing a knit wool mask, ordered High to the floor. The man then ordered Jam Master Jay to the floor, at which time Tony Ringkong stood up to assist. The man with the mask then shot Jay, fired another shot, and fled out the doorway with the other man.

Tony Rincon was no help. He refused to give a statement, apparently too scared to say anything. By the time people in the control room rushed into the lounge, the killer or killers had gone. So they didn't see anything. And Jay, of course, was dead. This leaves Lydia High as the only eyewitness, and we'll come back to her in a bit. Second, that security camera outside the front door recorded video on a 24-hour loop. This time, though, something went wrong.

When the tape was reviewed, the video was days, weeks old. Did someone take the proper tape out and substitute an older one? There were four more video cameras, and all of them captured exactly nothing. Third, the studio was a three-minute walk from the 103rd precinct. Cops were literally across the street. Who would risk carrying out a cold-blooded murder right there?

Rumors started to spread about this being the result of a rap beef between a drug lord named Kenneth "Supreme" McGriff and 50 Cent, Jay's protege. Fitty had a long history of crime and dealing and often associated with McGriff. McGriff's second in command was a guy named Gerald "Prince" Miller. Something in those relationships had soured.

And 50 Cent called out both men in a song called Get a Koran. That did not go down well on the streets, and Fitty was branded as a snitch. Meanwhile, he also had a beef going with Ja Rule, who recorded for another Queen's label called Murder Inc. And Supreme McGriff...

also had an interest in that label. A henchman is what some people called him. When Fitty was told to back off going after Ja Rule, he refused. That ended up with Fitty getting shot multiple times outside his grandmother's house on May 24, 2000. He spent 13 days in hospital but survived. The shooter was allegedly Daryl Homo Brown, a close friend and bodyguard of boxer Mike Tyson. By the end of 2000, Brown was killed.

The theory was that Supreme McGriff went after Fitty on behalf of Murder, Inc. Jam Master Jay was also on the hit list because he was Fitty's mentor. McGriff denies everything to do with that theory and claims he had no beef with Jay. Those who know both McGriff and Jay don't believe it either. And the cops never followed up because, well, there were no leads. By the way, McGriff is in prison serving a life sentence after being convicted of ordering the death of a rapper named E-Moneybag Smith in 2001.

The killer was paid $50,000. Another name that came up was Curtis Schoon, another friend of Jay's. This story was proposed by an investigative journalist named Frank Owen, writing for Playboy. The theory here is that Jay had run short of money and was finding it hard to take care of all his people like he once did. He also had tax problems, owing the IRS somewhere beyond $100,000. Plus, he had other debts.

Jay was desperate, the theory goes, and needed a lot of cash fast. And that's when he allegedly got involved with Schoon to move about 10 kilos of cocaine. Everyone around Jay thinks this theory is crazy, but a few people speculated about Jay's need for cash. So what did he do? He reached out to some people on the street for help and allegedly invested in a deal that would see all of his coke, these 10 keys, flip for a quick profit.

Jay, Schoon, and a friend who worked for JMJ Records named David Seabrook flew to California to buy the drugs. But the connection never showed. They found someone else, who then ripped him off for $30,000. Schoon was apparently very upset and thought that Jay owed him some money. Was it Schoon who pulled the trigger that night? That theory went nowhere. He didn't match Lydia High's description either.

Randy Allen, Jay's business partner, best man at his wedding, and godfather to Jay's son was also suspected. As partners, each had an insurance policy on the other. But that's a fairly standard sort of financial protection. Could he have had Jay bumped off for the insurance money?

There was a lot of talk about that, especially after one or two people close to Jay said that Jay believed Alan was stealing money from the business. Which didn't quite make sense because Alan had signed a couple of promising acts, one of whom was Queen Latifah and had just got a big advance from Virgin Records, so that theory fizzled out. See what I mean about twists and turns in the case? And there's more to tell. That's coming next.

The police investigation into the murder of Jam Master Jay was, well, lackluster. There didn't seem to be much interest in really following up on anything. Why weren't other security cameras in the neighborhood checked out? Remember, the police station was just a three-minute walk away. And why would the cops only offer a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the killer? People in the neighborhood weren't exactly rushing in to help either. There was no trust with the police.

And the code, among many, was "Never Snitch." Lydia High, the only person who got a good look at the gunman, was twice denied witness protection. Again, we'll come back to her. The dead ends piled up. A year passed. Then two. Then five. No progress. The cops had a tips log that ran 34 pages with possible leads. Still, nothing.

Randy Allen, Jay's business partner, was frustrated. He started talking about the case more, perhaps as a way to put pressure on someone to come forward, or for the cops to do something. In 2007, Randy went public with what he said Lydia told the police in 2002. The man she buzzed in and soon looked in the face when the shooting went down was Ronald Tinarn Washington, a guy from the neighborhood who was generally considered to be bad news.

He was also a suspect in the murder of a rapper named Stretch Walker, who, if you want to connect another dot, was part of Tupac's Thug Life crew. He also had regular access to Jay's studio. Dig into court papers and you'll find this statement from Lydia: "Washington pointed his gun at those present in the studio, ordered them to get on the ground, and provided cover for his associate to shoot and kill Jason Mizell, Jam Master Jay."

The cops didn't follow up, largely because Lydia, allegedly, wasn't an entirely reliable witness. Everyone agrees that she knew Washington for years. He wasn't the one in the mask, so she would have immediately known who he was. Why didn't she say she saw Washington that night? Why did it take her nine months to identify Washington from a book of photos presented to her by the cops? And remember, Lydia is Randy Allen's sister.

Could she be covering up for her brother who had Jade killed so he could collect on his insurance policy? That was one story. And what about the other eyewitness account from Tanya Edwards? She was a woman who worked next door. She had a clear look at anyone heading down the hallway towards the studio. Did Lydia actually accompany the suspected shooter into the studio? That's what Tanya Edwards says.

Her testimony to the cops a day after the murder was that a man and a woman walked past her office sometime between 7.15 and 7.30 that night. The woman was wearing a brown floppy hat, and the man was wearing a light blue velour jumpsuit. That man was tall and solid with braids to his neck. He appeared to be in his mid-20s. Ten months later, Edwards officially went on record saying that Lydia High was the woman in the hat.

But then in 2016, she waffled, saying that she did not recognize that woman as Lydia. Let's go back to Ronald Tinarn Washington. The day of the murder, he was at the studio. One story says that Jay gave him $200 to go buy some bullets. Like I said earlier, Jay seemed jumpy that night and did have a gun with him. But was that the story from Washington just to cover for his being in the studio that night?

All this adds up to one thing. No arrest of Ronald Tenard Washington. He remained on the street, even though there were some attempts at vigilante justice by some people in the hood. After being shot a couple of times, Washington left town. But then, a couple of weeks after Jay's death, Washington was arrested on some robbery charges and sent to jail. When he was finally sentenced five years later, prosecutors sent a letter to the presiding judge noting Washington's possible role in the Jam Master Jay murder.

It also said that he confided to a female friend that he was there when the shooting happened, not as the trigger man, but the other guy at the door. In 2007, Washington said that he wasn't in the studio at the time of the shooting. He was on his way back to the studio when he heard the two shots. This is where we run into two more suspects, Big D and his son, Little D.

Darren "Big D" Jordan had been involved with Run-DMC earlier in their career. He was an employee of Def Jam Records and was a good friend of Jay's. He lived right across the street all his life. Carl "Little D" Jordan was an aspiring rapper, who, by the way, had been arrested for the attempted murder of Jay's nephew back in August 2003. He was a rapper named Bo Skaggs. No charges were filed because Bo refused to cooperate.

Washington kept talking. Remember, this is 2007. He said that three months before Jay was shot, he and Jay were involved in a drug deal that went bad. That same deal involved Big D. The result was that everyone ended up owing a drug dealer from the Midwest named Uncle, head of the Black Mafia family, $180,000. And when it came time to pay up, no cash was forthcoming. So, did Uncle arrange for the murder?

were Big D and Little D, the two people who burst into the studio. Okay, wait, wait, wait. Hold on, back up. Only two men were involved in the shooting. And Lydia High says that it was Ronald Tintern Washington who held the gun to her head and ordered her to the floor and who blocked the door. That's one man. So, who was the guy in the hoodie and ski mask who pulled the trigger? Here's a clue. Lydia told the police that the gunman had a tattoo on his neck.

Big D did not have such a tattoo, but Lil D did. Some in the NYPD thought it was very interesting. So, was the hit squad Ronald Tintern Washington and Lil D? Some cops thought so. Some people on the street thought so too. The speculation and the rumors and the frustration continued for years. The case of the murder of Jam Master Jay had gone utterly cold. Then, in 2020, a development occurred.

Washington, already in jail serving a 17-year sentence, plus Lil D, were indicted for Jam Master Jay's murder. The charges also involved trafficking in cocaine and murder. So let's unpack this. The allegation was that Jay had 10 kilos of coke that he got from a distributor in Maryland. He, Washington, and Lil D were going to sell the coke on consignment. But then there was a fight, and Jay cut Washington and Lil D out of the deal. That resulted in bad blood,

That resulted in Jay's murder. In November 2021, both plead not guilty. Little D says he was at his girlfriend's house at the time of the murder and has witnesses who will testify to that effect. And for a little bit of color, that girlfriend was a former corrections officer. A trial date was set for February 2023, but that was delayed when a key witness turned up dead.

A new trial was scheduled to begin on November 23, 2023. Prosecutors have asked for an anonymous and partially sequestered jury because they fear for their safety. They have also pointed to possible witness tampering and intimidation ahead of the trial. Those threats allegedly came from both Washington and Lil D, and perhaps Big D too. This included text messages with pictures of people shot in the head and their throats cut.

Then, in May 2023, a third man was arrested, Jay Bryant, who was already in jail on drug charges and is of interest because he was seen entering the building just before the shooting and both clothing and his DNA were found at the scene. He may have even confessed to being the gunman to someone. Bryant has pleaded not guilty to any and all charges. But then, finally, finally, after 22 years, we finally got a verdict.

On February 27, 2024, Ronald Washington and Carl Jordan Jr., little D, were found guilty of this revenge murder. Washington and Jordan face a minimum of 20 years in prison. Both men maintain their innocence. J. Bryant will go to trial in 2026. Why did it take so long? Plenty of reasons, actually, but mostly because people were afraid.

Breon Peace, the US Attorney for New York's Eastern District said this: "It is no mystery why it took years to indict and arrest the defendants. The witnesses in the recording studios knew the killers and they were terrified that they would be retaliated against if they cooperated with law enforcement and identified the ruthless executioners of Mr. Mizell." So, who killed Jam Master Jay? After more than two decades, we finally know.

At the beginning of this episode, I played a song by KRS-One and Marley Marl called Kill a Rapper. It goes, if you want to get away with murder, kill a rapper. They're right. Here's a list of rappers who have all been murdered and their killers never caught. Notorious B.I.G., 1997. Fat Pat, 1997. His brother, Big Hawk, 2006. Camouflage, 2003. Soulja Slim, 2003. Mac Dre, 2004. Magnolia Shorty, 2010.

There's a lot more, but you get the idea. If you have any questions or comments, shoot me an email, alan at alancross.ca. We can also meet up on all the social media sites along with my website, ajournalofmusicalthings.com. It's updated with music news and recommendations every day. And there's also the free daily newsletter that you should get. Join me for more stories of crime and mayhem in the world of music with Uncharted, technical productions by Rob Johnston. I'm Alan Cross.