“He's up to something, Mma,” said Mma Makutsi. “See the way he's walking? See the way his legs go up and down like that?”

“But everybody's legs go up and down,” Mma Ramotswe pointed out mildly.

It was as if Mma Makutsi had not heard. “And his bottom, Mma. I do not wish to be indelicate, but see how his bottom sticks out.”

“Everybody's bottom sticks out,” said Mma Ramotswe. “That is normal, Mma.” She paused. There were exceptions, of course. Those thin, modern people who spent all their energy on reducing the size of their clothing—they must have a most uncomfortable time of it sitting down, with very little padding.

And now here was Charlie sauntering into the office, wiping his hands on one of the pieces of lint that Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni insisted on using, in spite of the ubiquity of paper towels.

“What is it, Mma Ramotswe?” he asked. “Are you ladies having difficulty adding figures or something like that? I'm your man for that. Best in class for mathematics at the Botswana Automotive Trades College—two years running. One, two, three, four—I'm your man.”

“Excuse me,” said Mma Makutsi as she made her way back to her desk. “If you were best in class at that college of yours, then why have you not finished your apprenticeship? Answer that, Mr. Charlie.”

Charlie did not look at Mma Makutsi, but addressed Mma Ramotswe in the tone of one unjustly attacked. “You hear that, Mma Ramotswe? You hear what that lady over there has said? Not everyone finishes their apprenticeship in double-quick time. It is sometimes better to do things thoroughly. You should not rush.”

“Of course, Charlie,” said Mma Ramotswe soothingly. “You finish your apprenticeship in your own time. It does not matter. Some people never even do an apprenticeship.”

She had not intended this to be a jibe, but Charlie seized on it immediately. Spinning round, he pointed triumphantly at Mma Makutsi. “Some detectives, for example, Mma! Some people who call themselves assistant detectives never did a detective apprenticeship in their lives! Ha!”

“Hush, Charlie,” said Mma Ramotswe. “We do not want to have an argument in here. This office is a peaceful place. This is Botswana, remember.”

“She …”

Mma Ramotswe cut him short. “Now, look, Charlie, we have a very important job for you. This is something that requires a very good actor. Somebody who could be in films …”

“If he finished his apprenticeship,” chipped in Mma Makutsi.

Mma Ramotswe threw a discouraging glance at her assistant. “Please! Please! Thank you! Now what we want you to do, Charlie, is to come with us—with Mma Makutsi and me. We are going to the Double Comfort Furniture Shop—you know, that's the place that belongs to Mr. Phuti Radiphuti.”

“Old Phuti,” said Charlie.

“And once we get there,” Mma Ramotswe persisted, “we would like you to go in and pretend that you are interested in buying a bed. Go to the bed department and you will find a lady there called Violet …”