“It’s all right, Rra,” she said soothingly. “Mma Makutsi did not mean to be rude. Unfortunately we have run out of bush tea. It is my fault. I should have seen this coming. It is not a big thing.”

Mr. Polopetsi put down the tea-pot and picked up his mug, which he cupped with his hands, as if warming them. “Perhaps we should have a system,” he said. “When the number of tea-bags in the tin drops down to five, then it is time for us to get more tea. When I worked in the pharmacy, we had a stock control system like that. When there was only a certain number of boxes of a drug on the shelves, we would automatically order more.” He paused, and took a sip of his tea. “It always worked.”

Mma Ramotswe listened in some discomfort. She glanced at Mma Makutsi, who had returned to her desk with her cup of tea and was tracing an imaginary pattern on her desk with a finger.

“Yes,” Mr. Polopetsi went on. “A system is a very good idea. Did they teach you about systems at the Botswana Secretarial College, Mma Makutsi?”

It was a moment of electric tension, thrilling in retrospect, but at the time it was dangerous to a degree. Mma Ramotswe hardly dared look at Mma Makutsi, but found her eyes drawn inexorably to the other side of the room, where the gaze of the two women met. Then Mma Ramotswe smiled, out of nervousness perhaps, but a smile nonetheless, and to her immense relief Mma Makutsi returned the smile. This was a moment of conspiracy between women, and it drew all the tension from the situation.

“We shall have to put you in charge of tea, then, Rra,” said Mma Makutsi evenly. “Since you know all about systems.”

Mr. Polopetsi, flustered, mumbled a non-committal reply and left the room.

“Well, that sorts that out,” said Mma Ramotswe.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE

ON THE MORNING that the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency ran out of bush tea, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni left Mr. Polopetsi and the younger apprentice in charge of the garage. There was not a great deal of work—only two cars were in that morning, one, a straightforward family saloon, had been delivered for a regular service, which Mr. Polopetsi was now quite capable of doing unaided, and the other required attention to a faulty fuel-injection system. That was trickier, but was probably just within the competence of the apprentice, provided his work could be checked later.

“I am going out to do some enquiries for Mma Ramotswe,” Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni announced to Mr. Polopetsi. “You will be in charge now, Rra.”