For nearly three decades, Duane “Keefe D” Davis talked about the murder of Tupac Shakur. Now that those words have helped lead to a first-degree murder conviction, Davis is telling a considerably different story.
In his first interview since a Las Vegas jury found him guilty in connection with Shakur’s September 1996 murder, the 63-year-old former Southside Compton Crips figure maintained his innocence while making several significant claims about the case, Tupac’s family, Suge Knight and Sean “Diddy” Combs.
Davis was convicted after jurors deliberated for less than three hours following a trial in which prosecutors argued that he orchestrated the retaliatory attack that killed Shakur. Under Nevada law, prosecutors did not have to prove Davis fired the fatal shots; their case centered on allegations that he helped organize the attack and supplied the weapon. Davis faces up to life in prison without parole when he is sentenced October 13.
But speaking from the Clark County Detention Center in an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Davis insisted the prosecution convicted the wrong man.
“I’m innocent, man. They got an innocent man sitting in jail,” Davis said.
More importantly, Davis is now challenging several elements of the Tupac murder story that have followed him for years.
Davis claimed he wasn’t even in Las Vegas on the night Tupac was shot, directly contradicting the narrative contained in years of interviews and accounts attributed to him. He said he instead went to a bar near UCLA that night before returning home the following morning.
He also distanced himself from Compton Street Legend, the 2019 memoir bearing his name that prosecutors used as part of their case. Davis claimed he did not actually write or review the book and accused witnesses and law enforcement officials of lying about him during the trial.
The statements represent a dramatic reversal for a man whose own words became one of the most important components of a murder investigation that remained unresolved for almost three decades.
Davis also addressed Tupac’s family, whose members attended the trial and closely followed proceedings.
“I didn’t like the way they was looking at me – like they was ready to beat me up,” Davis said. “And I didn’t like the way the prosecutors kept bringing them in the back room where the jury was. That felt biased to me.”
Then came another of the interview’s more intriguing revelations: Davis said he attempted to contact both Diddy and Dr. Dre for financial assistance with his legal defense but was unable to reach either music mogul.
Combs’ name has hovered around theories concerning Tupac’s murder for decades, largely because of allegations that Davis himself previously helped circulate. Davis has now denied that he ever claimed Combs offered $1 million to have Tupac and Death Row Records boss Suge Knight killed.
Davis further claimed that some of his previous statements about the murder were lies intended to protect others and keep authorities from taking his children while he was dealing with drug-related legal trouble.
He also directed a message toward Knight, who was behind the wheel of the BMW when Tupac was shot.
“Tell the truth,” Davis said, maintaining that Knight knows Davis was not inside the Cadillac from which the shots were fired.
That claim is particularly striking because Davis spent years publicly placing himself inside that vehicle.
Therein lies what may ultimately become the most important issue surrounding Davis’ appeal. The prosecution’s case relied heavily on a trail of statements Davis made himself—beginning with a protected 2008 law-enforcement interview and continuing through television appearances, interviews and the memoir published years later. Prosecutors argued those later public statements opened the door to evidence that had once been protected.
Now, after a jury has held him legally responsible for Tupac Shakur’s death, Davis says much of what the public thought it knew about his involvement simply wasn’t true.
Whether an appellate court finds legal merit in those arguments remains to be seen. But after nearly 30 years of Keefe D helping tell one version of Hip Hop’s most infamous murder, his fight for freedom now depends heavily on convincing the courts that Keefe D himself could not be believed.