With the autopsy report coming back as inconclusive pending a toxicology report, the police reportedly found crack in DJ AM’s pocket after finding him dead along with a pipe near his body, according to RadarOnline:
Police first entered the 36-year-old’s $2 million SoHo apartment at 5:23 PM Friday after worried friends had tried unsuccessfully to reach him. Police and emergency medical workers discovered his lifeless body on top of his bed. A glass crack pipe was found nearby.
“It wasn’t until a while later when police actually found the bag of crack,” said the NYPD source. “It wasn’t discovered until his body was moved for the first time. The bag of crack was in the groin area inside the sweat pants he was wearing.”
In other new details, the source says police found more than a dozen bottles of prescription pills in the kitchen of his seven-floor Lafayette Street apartment. “Xanax and the painkiller Vicodin were among the pills found,” said the source.
The police have also confirmed DJ AM was alive as early as Friday morning and wasn’t dead in his apartment for days:
The time of death has not yet been officially announced but RadarOnline.com has also learned that AM was still alive at least into the early hours of Friday morning because they have discovered some IMs sent from him as late as 1 a.m. “He was alive Thursday night and into early Friday morning from the time of these texts,” said the source. “He was texting an unidentified individual as late as 1 a.m.”
It is unknown at this time if the messages were to his ex-girlfriend.
Reports are coming in that DJ AM was distraught over his girlfriend of a few months breaking up with him which makes no fucking sense. Listen, I don’t want to rag on the guy, but after seeing four people you know burn to a crisp as you escape death, OD-ing because some girl doesn’t like you is unbelievably weak. Not only that, the dude was rich and could’ve easily taken a month, or even a year, off to hire a hot therapist who’ll also fellate you while you play video games. I could’ve been molested by a clown as a child, and a week of Dr. BJ would have me high-fiving Ronald McDonald. That’s all I’m saying.