Can the Tupac Shakur murder trial salvage any justice from a 27-year-old case?
In recent weeks, there have been surprising new developments in the murder case of the rapper Tupac Shakur, which felt as if it might be stuck in a resolved-but-unsolved limbo forever. This is a complicated new chapter in one of hip-hop's longest, most well-known mythologies, and one that is revealing ways in which the story has lost some of its nuance in the course of becoming folklore.
On September 29, a Nevada grand jury indicted Duane "Keffe D" Davis (sometimes Keefe D) in connection with the 1996 killing. Chief Deputy District Attorney Marc DiGiacomo described Davis as the "on-ground, on-site commander" who "ordered the death."
The arrest marks the first major movement in a 27-year-old case that has built up its own mythos over time, but Davis, who is scheduled to be arraigned on one count of murder in Las Vegas on Oct. 19, is a familiar figure in the investigation. The conversation around the case tells its own story about the blurred lines of information, what is known versus what is believed, what qualifies as evidence and how the truth of an incident can be warped by its circumstances.
Tupac himself always had the makings of a mythic figure, and in realizing that myth has come to represent our collective need for martyrs and closed loops. His story has been told many times by many people with their own agendas.
Named for an indigenous rebel, he was conceived while his mother, Afeni, was on trial as a member of the Panther 21, accused of planning a coordinated attack that included a bombing. (The
