Run-DMC’s Jam Master Jay was killed in ‘greed and revenge’ ambush, prosecutor says as trial of alleged assassins begins
Hip-hop pioneer Jam Master Jay was executed in an ambush motivated by “greed and revenge” over drugs, federal prosecutor said Monday as the trial of the Run-DMC DJ’s alleged assassins got underway.
Ronald Washington, 59, and Karl Jordan Jr., 39, are accused of gunning down Jay, whose real name was Jason Mizell, at his Queens music studio in 2002.
“It was a brutal crime,” Assistant US Attorney Miranda Gonzalez said during opening arguments in Brooklyn federal court.
Washington and Jordan were arrested in 2020, with prosecutors claiming the long unsolved shooting was retribution over a large cocaine deal gone bad.
“The defendants had killed a world-famous musician in front of people they know,” said Gonzalez, who painted a detailed portrait of the events leading up to the cold-blooded hit.
“It was an ambush. An execution,” she told the jury. “And you’ll learn that it was motivated by greed and revenge.”
Mizell had served as a “middleman” for cocaine shipments once his Run-DMC money began to dry up by the mid-1990s, prosecutors claimed.
“As the spotlight for Run-DMC started to fade, the money wasn’t coming into Jason Mizell as it once was, so he turned to drugs to make money,” Gonzalez said.
Prosecutors allege Mizell was earning hundreds of thousands of dollars in the illicit trade. One such transaction, known as the “Baltimore Deal,” allegedly involved the shipment of $200,000 in drugs from New York City to Washington, DC.
However, prosecutors said things “didn’t go as planned” with the 10-kilogram coke deal.
The distributor allegedly didn’t want to work with Washington, a childhood friend of Mizell, which left him cut out of the deal. It also meant that Jordan, Mizell’s godson, would lose his share of the proceeds Washington was expecting.
It was this slight that led the men to ambush and kill Mizell, prosecutors claim.
On the night of the murder, Mizell was sitting on a couch playing video games at his 24/7 Studio on Merrick Boulevard.
Gonzalez said the famous DJ had a .380-caliber pistol on the armrest of the sofa, fearing for his safety after a visit from Washington earlier in the day.
“People close to Jason will tell you that in the days leading up to his murder, he seemed different,” she told the jury.
Jay Bryant, 49, who was indicted separately for his role in the killing, let Jordan and Washington into the studio through a rear entrance on the fire escape, according to the accusations.
Mizell rose to his feet upon seeing Jordan enter the studio, who prosecutors said then “put a .40-caliber bullet in his head, killing him instantly.”
Gonzalez noted that the fatal shot was fired at such close range, it “burned the hair and skin of his head.”
Prosecutors also noted Jordan’s callous indifference about the killing, claiming he later made statements that “If Jason Mizell was still alive, [I] would kill him again.”
Lawyers for the defense briefly addressed the court, proclaiming their clients’ innocence and casting doubt on the reliability of eyewitness testimony of the more than 20-year-old crime.
“Karl Jordan Jr. did not kill Jason Mizell,” said Jordan’s attorney John Diaz.
“This whole case revolves around 10 seconds, 21 years ago — a blink of an eye, a generation ago,” said Ezra Spilke, Washington’s attorney.
Spilke went on to say that Washington and Mizell were like family, and conceded that his client was an alcoholic at the time who would frequently crash on the hip-hop DJ’s couch.
“If that’s the case, why bite the hand that feeds you — why kill the one person you depend on?”
Also testifying in court today was Detective James Lusk, who is now with the Queens District Attorney’s office but was with the 103rd Precinct at the time of the murder.
Lusk testified that in the moments that followed, Randy Allen, a business partner of Mizell’s who had been present for the shooting, sprinted on foot across the large municipal parking lot separating the studio from the precinct to report the crime.
Upon arriving at the studio about a minute later, Lusk found Mizell unresponsive, “lying on the ground” in a huge pool of blood, and Allen’s sister Lydia High, who identified the shooter to police nine months after the crime, “crying hysterically.”
Jurors were then shown photos of the crime scene, which included bloody pictures of Mizell’s body, wearing white socks and a beige sweater, laying on the floor next to the couch with a PlayStation 2 video game controller nearby.
Under cross-examination, Michael Houston, one of Jordan’s attorneys, questioned the detective about why they didn’t photograph the fire escape through which Jordan and Washington had entered the studio back in 2002.
Lusk said he was unaware of whether any photos were taken at the time.
Washington’s lawyer, Jacqueline Cistaro, questioned why none of the five people in the studio at the time of the murder called 911.
The detective said “I don’t remember anybody calling 911” but later pointed out that it would have probably been quicker for Allen to run to the precinct like he did rather than placing a call for help.
Run-DMC, who proudly hailed from Hollis, Queens, was a pioneering rap trio who are largely credited with bringing hip-hop to a mainstream audience with hits like “It’s Tricky” and “My Adidas.”
Unlike some other of their peer artists, Run-DMC eschewed the violence and criminality of street life, both in their lyrics and political activities.
The group famously did an anti-drug PSA in 1987, held voter registration drives at concerts and were outspoken against Los Angeles gang violence.
They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2009.
