The Seven Inconsistencies
In the morning, Marek went to see Mrs Vogel.
He had — he thought — to do this in person. Mrs Vogel was, by then, at a new place along the long thin route of a missing-person family: she had not slept; she had been at the police; she had been at the hospital; she had walked to the corner shop where Bo had last been seen on the 28th of June; she had, an hour before Marek arrived, drunk a cup of tea so strong her hands were shaking.
He sat down at her kitchen table. He had brought a printout of the seven inconsistencies. He had typed them up neatly. He explained.
Mrs Vogel read them slowly.
She read them twice.
"Marek. Have you shown this to the police?"
"Not yet. I wanted to show you first."
"Take it to them today. Now."
Marek took it. He went, with Mrs Vogel, to the police station. The detective on the case — a tired but careful woman called Sergeant Iris Halpren — read the printout three times.
She asked Marek a number of questions. She thanked him. She asked whether the chat could be exported and shared with the police, with everyone in the chat's permission. Marek said yes, and that he would speak to the others.
Two days later — once Esme, Lina, and Pim had each given their consent and exported their copies of the chat — the police had a complete record of every message Bo had sent to anyone in the group for two and a half years.
They began to compare it against