She looked at the list and tried shifting the items about. It sometimes helped, she thought, to put the most difficult matters first in order to get them out of the way. In which case her list for the day would be: (1) Polopetsi, (2) Mma Potokwane/Zebra, and (3) Mma Rosie. That third item—the contacting of Mma Rosie—would not be without difficulty. Mma Rosie had been offended by Mma Makutsi’s attitude, although Mma Ramotswe felt that her own dealings with her had been civil enough. But none of these matters, she felt, was entirely easy.

She had arranged for Mr. Polopetsi to come round to the office first thing that morning, and he was already waiting for her by the time she arrived. He was wearing the same jacket as when she’d seen him in the President Hotel, and he was sporting the eagle-motif tie she had given him. There was that crumpled look about him, though, that revealed his concern. She had told him that what she proposed to do was not going to be easy, and that message had sunk in.

“What are you going to do, Mma?” he asked nervously as she unlocked the office door.

“I am going to put on the kettle, Rra,” she said. “The day must start with tea.”

“Yes, but after that, Mma? What are you going to do after that?”

Mma Ramotswe opened the door and gestured for him to follow her. “I am going to go to the police, Rra. And you’re coming with me. I have arranged an appointment.”

Mr. Polopetsi let out a groan. “Oh, Mma, I have not stolen anything…I would never steal anything. You know me—I am honest, Mma. You know that.”

She tried to calm him down. “I know you’re honest, Mr. Polopetsi. That is why I am doing what I am doing. If you were a dishonest man, would I bother to do this for you?” She answered her own question. “I would not. But since you are a good man, I will do everything I can, Rra—everything.”

He looked down at his shoes. “I do not deserve such a good friend, Mma. You are like Jesus Christ himself.”

She could not conceal her astonishment. “I do not think so, Rra. You are very kind, but I would never…”

“No, perhaps not. Maybe you are like his sister, Mma.”

She frowned. “There was no sister, Rra. We did not hear about a sister.”

“Perhaps they did not want to mention her,” said Mr. Polopetsi. “Perhaps she did not want any publicity.”

Mma Ramotswe raised an eyebrow. Mr. Polopetsi could say some very strange things, but then so could Mma Makutsi and, come to think of it, Charlie and Fanwell too. In fact, everybody, it seemed, could say odd things.