“I’ve never met a detective,” said the young man with the cloth. “Is it interesting work, Mma? Do you come to places like this to investigate…”

“Thefts,” supplied the mouth.

Teenie gave a start. She had been watching the young men as they talked; now she spun round and looked at Mma Makutsi. Again there was that pleading look, as if she wanted Mma Makutsi to say that it was not true, that she was not a detective, and that she had certainly not come here to look into thefts.

Mma Makutsi decided that the best tactic would be to pretend to be amused by the very suggestion. “We do not spend all our time investigating,” she said, smiling archly. “There are other things in our lives.”

The young man with the large mouth cocked his head sideways as she spoke, as if he was trying to look at Mma Makutsi from a different angle. She glanced at him and found herself looking past his teeth and lips, into the very cave, the labyrinth. There were people who found such caves irresistible, she knew, who loved exploring. She imagined tiny people, equipped with minuscule ropes and picks, climbing into that mouth, leaning into the hot gusts of wind that came up from the lungs somewhere down below.

Teenie took Mma Makutsi’s arm and led her off towards the offices. “They are not involved in it,” she said. “They would never steal.”

Mma Makutsi was not so sure. “One can’t be too sure about that,” she said. “Sometimes it is the most unlikely person who is to blame for something. We have had many cases where you would never have suspected the person who turns out to be guilty. Ministers of religion for example. Yes. Even them.”

“I cannot imagine a minister of religion doing anything bad,” said Teenie.

Mma Makutsi sighed. “Well, they do. There are some very wicked ministers of religion. They hardly ever get caught, of course, because nobody thinks of looking into their affairs. If I wanted to commit a crime and get away with it, you know what I would do? I would become a minister of religion first, and then I would commit the crime. I would know that I would get away with it, you see.”

“Or a detective,” said Teenie quietly.

“Or a…” Mma Makutsi had been about to agree with this, but was stopped by professional pride. “No,” she continued. “I don’t think that it would be a good idea to become a detective if you were planning to commit a crime. The people you worked with would know, you see, Mma. They would just know.”

Teenie said nothing. They were now outside the office cubicle and Teenie was reaching for the handle of the door. The man and the woman inside were watching them.

“This is him,” whispered Teenie. “This one inside.”