Mr Polopetsi looked down at the place where the van had been, and then out into the bush beside the track, through the trees and the shrubs and the termite mounds, as if he might see something other than the brown of the grass and the red, red earth and the thorn trees; as if he might hear something other than the screech of the cicadas and the call of birds.

“Leave me here,” he said. “I want to look for clues. You go back to town. I’ll get a minibus from the main road later on. You leave me here.”

Mma Ramotswe turned and stared at him. “There will be no clues,” she said. “They have come and gone. That is all.”

“Just let me try,” said Mr Polopetsi.

“If he wants to,” said Mr J.L.B. Matekoni. “There is no harm. There is not much for him to do at the garage this morning.”

They climbed into the truck and Mr J.L.B. Matekoni manoeuvred it back to face up the track. As they drove slowly past him, Mr Polopetsi raised a hand in farewell. Mma Ramotswe noticed that he looked excited, and remarked on this a little later to Mr J.L.B. Matekoni.

“He is playing the detective,” she said. “But there is no harm in that. He is very keen to do some detective work.”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni laughed. “He is a good man,” he said. “And you did the right thing when you asked him to join us.”

The compliment pleased Mma Ramotswe, and she touched him gently on the forearm. “You have been good to him too,” she said.

They travelled on in silence. A few minutes later, Mr J.L.B. Matekoni glanced at Mma Ramotswe, and he saw that she was crying, silently, but there were tears on her cheeks.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I am sorry. My white van. I loved it very much. It had been my friend for many years.”

Mr J.L.B. Matekoni shifted in his seat. He found it difficult when women became emotional; he was a mechanic, after all, and these things were awkward for mechanics.

“I will find a new one for you,” he said gently. “I will find you a good van.”

Mma Ramotswe said nothing. It was kind of him, she knew, but the finding of a new van was not the point. She wanted only that tiny white van that had driven her all over Botswana. That was all she wanted.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE DOUBLE COMFORT FURNITURE STORE