“We knocked that place down,” said Vain. “My wife does not like to have a maid in the house. She says that a maid can get in the way and might steal. She is very worried about people stealing from her.”

“There are many maids who are one hundred per cent honest,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I have one. Mma Makutsi has one. There are many such people.”

Vain looked at her reproachfully. “I am not saying that all maids are dishonest, Mma. I did not say that. I am just saying that there are some who are. That is all.”

“I’m sorry, Rra,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I did not mean to accuse you.”

“Why did you knock it down?” asked Susan in a strained voice.

“The roof needed replacing,” said Vain. “It would have cost more to replace the roof than to knock it down.”

Susan moved towards the door. “Will you show me where it was?”

Vain seemed taken aback by the request, but agreed to do as asked. “The yard at the back is a bit overgrown,” he said. “That is deliberate. We do not like people to think that we have a lot of money because our yard is all set out nicely. People come and ask you for money if they think you can spend a lot on your yard.”

“But there may be snakes,” said Mma Ramotswe. “If you let things grow too much, then snakes move in. They like gardens that are not looked after very well…Not that I’m saying that yours is like that, Rra. I am not saying that.”

Vain frowned. “There are no snakes in my yard, Mma Ramotswe. That one you trod on the other day did not live here. He was passing through. There are some snakes that pass through.”

Now outside, they followed a small path, barely discernible after years of disuse, to an area of flat ground. On this there were signs that once there had been a building—remnants of the concrete foundations, covered here and there by soil, but poking up out of the ground in an unmistakable rectangular pattern. There were a few half-shattered breeze-blocks of the sort used for constructing cheap buildings, now crumbling with the passage of years; there were some fragments of corrugated tin, left over from a roof that must have been taken away to make a coop for hens or something of that sort. There were the remnants of a termite mound, built to take advantage of the bits of wood that the demolition had left lying around, but long ago abandoned by ants that had gone elsewhere to raise a new tiny city.

Mma Ramotswe realised immediately that this was a place of special interest for Susan. She watched her client’s expression. She watched her as she looked, and then looked away. That came with pain.

“Are you all right, Mma?” she asked.