racketeering…a real piece of work.”
“I gather he’s not on your Christmas list.”
“Good guess. After Blunt got killed, I was relieved to be done with his label. And when B-Side opted to go with a more reputable company, it was the best thing that ever happened to both of us. There’s no love lost between me and Moet. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have had a hand in Blunt’s murder.”
Black leaned forward. “Maybe I’m missing something. Why would he want to kill his number one act?”
“Blunt wasn’t happy with the results he was seeing. He was convinced that Moet was faking the sales data, skimming cash. He’d started agitating for an audit. You don’t question Moet’s integrity the way he did. When I heard the news that he’d been gunned down, it didn’t surprise me.”
“But didn’t Moet lose a fortune when Blunt died?”
“What, are you kidding me? The record wound up selling three times as many copies after he died. Which wouldn’t have happened if Blunt had been alive. More importantly, it’s going to continue selling for years as the mystique around Blunt’s life and death grows. It’s free money for Moet. No tours to support, no artist to deal with. Just an endless stream of money.”
“But he still has to pay the estate royalties, right?”
“Sure. Blunt’s mama gets them. But she’s not exactly a numbers person, so Moet can pretty much do whatever he wants.”
“Not if you’re still in the mix.”
“I’m not. Blunt’s mom and I parted ways. It’s not my concern anymore. I’m on to bigger and better things. Don’t get me wrong, I still get my check every quarter, but I’m not going to make waves now. My future’s with B-Side, not haggling with Moet and hoping I don’t wake up with a Glock in my mouth.”
“Isn’t that a little dramatic?”
“You don’t know the man. You’re an investigator. Do some investigating. You’ll see.”
“Tell me about Blunt and B-Side. Did they part on good terms?”
“Not really. In fact, that was a big deal. B-Side quit the crew to pursue his own career, but it hurt Blunt’s feelings – he believed he’d done B-Side nothing but right, and basically launched him, given him the opportunity to make it. Then instead of being grateful, he left, and they began bad-mouthing each other. It’s pretty typical in this business, but even for that kind of feud, it got heated. Then, Blunt got killed in Jamaica and the rest is history.”
Black sat forward. “How long were you with Blunt, Sam?”
Sam stared out the window and then returned his gaze to Black. “Boy, probably…two years? Maybe a little longer? But a great run, even if it was short.”
“And how would you compare the two – B-Side and Blunt? They’re cousins, right?”
“Correct. I’d say that B-Side’s more of an entertainer. More rounded. Better sense of showmanship. Blunt was old school, just walk up to the mike and start rapping. B-Side’s got more of the whole package. Sizzle. He’s going to go a long way. I don’t see how anything can stop him. He’s that good.”
“I know the album’s selling well.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. It’s crossed the four million mark just in the U.S. That’s insane for the amount of time it’s been out. And it’s just getting started. It could see ten million before it’s over. It’s a great record. Iconic.”
“I’ve heard some tracks. They’re impressive. And I’m not exactly the target audience.”
“You’d be surprised. The audience for rap is way more diverse than most people think. It cuts across racial and economic lines. It’s big in the suburbs, big in white America, big in the inner cities. So the audience is really anyone you see on the street. The cab driver, the attorney, the waitress, the truck driver. It’s a whole new world, Black, and there are no color lines when it comes to music.”
“So your theory is that Moet wants B-Side dead for
“I gather he’s not on your Christmas list.”
“Good guess. After Blunt got killed, I was relieved to be done with his label. And when B-Side opted to go with a more reputable company, it was the best thing that ever happened to both of us. There’s no love lost between me and Moet. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have had a hand in Blunt’s murder.”
Black leaned forward. “Maybe I’m missing something. Why would he want to kill his number one act?”
“Blunt wasn’t happy with the results he was seeing. He was convinced that Moet was faking the sales data, skimming cash. He’d started agitating for an audit. You don’t question Moet’s integrity the way he did. When I heard the news that he’d been gunned down, it didn’t surprise me.”
“But didn’t Moet lose a fortune when Blunt died?”
“What, are you kidding me? The record wound up selling three times as many copies after he died. Which wouldn’t have happened if Blunt had been alive. More importantly, it’s going to continue selling for years as the mystique around Blunt’s life and death grows. It’s free money for Moet. No tours to support, no artist to deal with. Just an endless stream of money.”
“But he still has to pay the estate royalties, right?”
“Sure. Blunt’s mama gets them. But she’s not exactly a numbers person, so Moet can pretty much do whatever he wants.”
“Not if you’re still in the mix.”
“I’m not. Blunt’s mom and I parted ways. It’s not my concern anymore. I’m on to bigger and better things. Don’t get me wrong, I still get my check every quarter, but I’m not going to make waves now. My future’s with B-Side, not haggling with Moet and hoping I don’t wake up with a Glock in my mouth.”
“Isn’t that a little dramatic?”
“You don’t know the man. You’re an investigator. Do some investigating. You’ll see.”
“Tell me about Blunt and B-Side. Did they part on good terms?”
“Not really. In fact, that was a big deal. B-Side quit the crew to pursue his own career, but it hurt Blunt’s feelings – he believed he’d done B-Side nothing but right, and basically launched him, given him the opportunity to make it. Then instead of being grateful, he left, and they began bad-mouthing each other. It’s pretty typical in this business, but even for that kind of feud, it got heated. Then, Blunt got killed in Jamaica and the rest is history.”
Black sat forward. “How long were you with Blunt, Sam?”
Sam stared out the window and then returned his gaze to Black. “Boy, probably…two years? Maybe a little longer? But a great run, even if it was short.”
“And how would you compare the two – B-Side and Blunt? They’re cousins, right?”
“Correct. I’d say that B-Side’s more of an entertainer. More rounded. Better sense of showmanship. Blunt was old school, just walk up to the mike and start rapping. B-Side’s got more of the whole package. Sizzle. He’s going to go a long way. I don’t see how anything can stop him. He’s that good.”
“I know the album’s selling well.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. It’s crossed the four million mark just in the U.S. That’s insane for the amount of time it’s been out. And it’s just getting started. It could see ten million before it’s over. It’s a great record. Iconic.”
“I’ve heard some tracks. They’re impressive. And I’m not exactly the target audience.”
“You’d be surprised. The audience for rap is way more diverse than most people think. It cuts across racial and economic lines. It’s big in the suburbs, big in white America, big in the inner cities. So the audience is really anyone you see on the street. The cab driver, the attorney, the waitress, the truck driver. It’s a whole new world, Black, and there are no color lines when it comes to music.”
“So your theory is that Moet wants B-Side dead for
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