“Oh yes,” she said. “I most certainly am going to. And he is going to have to too. I am going to ask him to explain himself, and I can just see his face! That will be a very amusing moment, Rra. I hope that you have a sense of humour so that you can enjoy it.”

As Mma Botumile left to meet her husband, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni sat in miserable isolation on the verandah. It occurred to him that Mma Botumile could hardly detain him against his will, that he could leave if he so desired, but then if he did that Mma Ramotswe would be bound to hear of his abandonment of the case and she would hardly be impressed. No, he would have to stay and he would have to provide Mma Botumile with the support that she expected of him in the confrontation with her husband.

There were voices round the corner—Mma Botumile’s voice and the voice of a man. Then she appeared, and behind her came the man whom he had heard. But it was not her husband; it was not Mr. Botumile.

“This is my husband,” said Mma Botumile, pointing, rather rudely, to the man behind her.

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni looked from face to face.

“Well?” said Mma Botumile. “Seen a ghost?”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was aware of the fact that Mr. Botumile was looking at him in puzzlement and expectation. He decided, though, not to look at him, and concentrated on Mma Botumile instead.

“That is not the man,” he said.

“What do you mean?” asked Mma Botumile. She turned to her husband, and almost as an aside said, “Your little affair. Finished. As of now.”

No actor could have dissembled more convincingly than Mr. Botumile, were he dissembling, which Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni rapidly concluded he was not. “Me? Affair?”

“Yes,” snapped Mma Botumile.

“Oh…oh…” Mr. Botumile stared at Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni for support. “It is not true, Rra. It is not true.”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni drew in his breath. Mma Botumile, Mma Potokwane—these powerful women were all the same, and one just had to stand up to them. It was not easy, but it had to be done. “He is not the man, Mma,” he said loudly. “That is not the man I followed.”

“But you said…”

“Yes, I said, but I am wrong. I saw another man leaving the office. He also drove a red car. I followed that man.”

Mr. Botumile clapped his hands together. “But that is Baleseng. He works with me. Baleseng is the financial controller. You followed Baleseng, Rra! Baleseng is having an affair!”

Mma Botumile directed a withering look at Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “You stupid, stupid, useless man,” she said. “And that stupid photograph of yours. That is a picture of Baleseng going back to his wife! You stupid man!”