forgetting me

03

Boston Police Department
June 22nd, 2002

Carl Staman, the detective in charge of the William Peterson disappearance, and a Peterson family friend, arranged the few papers he had acquired on William. "The Great Vanishing Act of Peterson", he liked to call the case. The twenty-seven year old had made it clear he didn't want to be found. The family had yet to provide any government official documents, but the detective believed they were simply covering up that they didn't have access to the documents anymore.

The door opened, and in walked Diana Peterson, William's stepmother.

"Mrs. Peterson." Staman rose from his seat and reached across his desk to shake the woman's hand. When he sat back down, he reached over the desk to press record on his recording machine. Mrs. Peterson noticed, but didn't object.

She produced a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to the detective.

"My daughter found that note in William's bed two nights ago. I apologize for not bringing it in sooner, but Lainie wouldn't let go of it, and I didn't want to rip this piece of him away from her so soon."

Staman skimmed the paper, quickly determining it was a letter from William to his family. He placed the note in the manila folder which now had four documents in it - the letter he'd just put in, a high school diploma, an envelope which contained a letter William had written that Staman had yet to read, and the missing person report. There was nothing else, though. Staman had reached out to every police department in Massachusetts, but there was no other paper work proving William Peterson had ever even existed.

Diana Peterson had sat down in the seat across from Staman. He folded his hands and turned to look at her.

"What exactly does your stepson want to forget, Mrs. Peterson?" Staman asked. "The letter implies that William may be someone we might want to chase after as a criminal, not as a missing family member."

"He's changed since those days, sir," Mrs. Peterson replied. "He used to drink and get rowdy. He has never told us of abusing anyone, but his father and I have suspected it. I never believed it was true, though. I wouldn't. He was so nice, and innocent, too."

"You seem to know a lot about him for 'hating him'."

Diana winced. "He may hate me, but I certainly do not hate him," she answered, her voice small.

"And why's that?" Staman pressed.

Diana sighed. She rose from her seat and gathered her things.

"I want you to realize, sir, that I have a past I'm trying to forget as well. My mistakes helped make William into the man he wants to forget."

"Mrs. Peterson, wait," Staman said, "I have one final question, and then you can go." Diana turned. "Your stepson says in his letter that you will blame him. Do you?"

A dark cloud crossed Mrs. Peterson's face. "Of course not. I only blame myself," she said.

The detective watched her leave and he made sure the door was shut all the way before he turned the recording machine off.

He leaned back in his chair. He now had a pretty good lead as to why William had left, but he was no closer to being found than before.