114. Interview with William Fletcher: Part 3
30 August 2011
– You’d think that would’ve been the end of it, too, but no. Palmer case just wouldn’t leave me alone.
– I go home after county picks up the body and Palmer’s gun’s sent up to forensics and I file my paperwork and bag all his possessions and stick it all in evidence and I’m thinking the whole thing’s over with. Get in bed next to my wife at little past two a.m., glad to be done with it all, wishing I could really be done with it all. The whole damn city. But I wake up in decent spirits regardless and come into work the next morning, and that’s when they tell me I got a girl in my office, bawling her eyes out.
– I walk in and she’s sitting right across from my desk, eyes black with mascara. Starts babbling as soon as she sees me, before I can even get a word in. Tried to pacify her, told her to lower her voice when she started yelling, but she just kept on with the bawling and babbling. Looking me dead in my face and sputtering about this and that, about being pregnant with Palmer’s baby and a whole lot of other stuff I couldn’t really understand.
– Wasn’t really surprised, you know? Palmer would be the type to leave a child behind. But then she spits out that Palmer didn’t kill himself so I say, ok. I’m game. He didn’t kill himself, you say? [Detective Fletcher shrugs then holds his hands out] Then who did?
– Long pause, then she gets all edgy and tells me she doesn’t know, she just knows he didn’t kill himself. Obvious she’s hiding something, gets me kind of curious. But I’m tired too, you know? At this point I’m just damn tired, and I’m not in the mood for games. By this time, I’ve already closed the book on the case. Turned in my paperwork the night before. I’m going to need something concrete to convince myself to pick it back up. And I didn’t want anything forcing me to do that, I’ll admit.
– So, even though I’m curious, I was glad to hear her not really saying nothing. Like I said, case was cut and dry. Found Palmer with the gun in his hand, motel owner and five other witnesses say they heard the shot seconds before they got to the room, and nobody witnessed anybody fleeing the scene. And at that point I’m betting when county gets back to me with the angle of the bullet, it’s ruled self-inflicted.
– If not, maybe this girl’s right, maybe I will have to do some poking around. Either way, that’s later on. Right then, though, she’s not saying nothing and I don’t want the headache she’s trying to bring me. So I ask her again, obligingly, how she knows Palmer didn’t kill himself. She says because he wouldn’t do something like that, and I smile because now I’m done with her and Palmer. I tell her thanks for her time, but I’m really busy. If she gets any evidence other than her own personal opinion, she’s welcome to come back.
– I’m about to escort her out when she starts with the yelling again. Had to get three officers in there just to restrain her and get her the hell out of my office.
– I don’t know. That was my breaking point right there. It was at that moment, while they’re dragging Palmer’s girl out, that I decided I—me and my family—we’re coming back here, to South Carolina.
– I didn’t know if things were different back home than they’d been when I started out, if things were just like how they were in Palm Beach. And they are, a little. Same type of brooding students around here now, not like how it used to be. But at least I feel comfortable here, can still see my old house and remember the days I rode my bike up to campus, around all the students. Happy students.
– Well, I called my wife after Palmer’s baby-mama left, told her the plan hoping not to get an earful. And she was all for it, quit her job that day. She’d been itching to get out herself, hated the place she was at, working as a receptionist. I went to the chief after I got off the phone with her and handed in my resignation, told him I’d be clearing out soon as he approved it, then I headed back to my office with him staring after me, dumbfounded.
– Yeah, right after that. Walked back in and—never stops—I’m in the middle of cleaning out my desk when I get a page from Van Heusen over at county. I pick up the phone and he’s telling me they’ve got autopsy results on the Palmer body for me, forensics on the gun too. Trajectory of the bullet indicates suicide, gun’s a black market .32 cal Smith and Wesson, filed down serial plate. Figures. Good news to me. But then Van Heusen throws in a comment about toxicology, says Palmer had a large amount of Zoloft in his intestines, which just adds to the suicide explanation. Zoloft’s got that effect on people. But, see, it’s also regulated, and I didn’t remember picking up any script bottles from Palmer’s place. Hated myself for even getting curious, but that coupled with the girl’s comments on him not having killed himself made me want to look into it just one more time.
Who Is Anthony Stephens? 
What Do You Think About The Story Progression So Far? Any Suggestions?