“Privately?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Yes, if that is what you want. There is a special table at one end that we can use. Nobody will disturb us.”

They walked in silence to the canteen. Tati Monyena tried to make casual conversation, but Mma Ramotswe found herself too involved in her own thoughts to respond very much. She was trying to make sense of something, and the sense was not apparent. He knew, she thought; he knew. But if he knew, then why ask her? An outside whitewash—that was what he wanted.

They helped themselves at the hot-food counter and made their way over to a small, red-topped table at the far end of the canteen. Tati Monyena, sensing that something important was coming, had now become edgy. As he lowered his tray onto the table, Mma Ramotswe could not help but notice that there was a tremor in his hands. He is shaking because he senses that I know something, she thought. Now he is feeling dread. There will be no senior job for him now. This was not the part of her job that she liked: the painful spelling out of the truth, the exposure.

She looked down at her plate. There was a piece of beef on it, some mashed potatoes, and green peas. It was a good lunch.

Suddenly, without having thought about it beforehand, she felt impelled to say grace. “Do you mind if I say grace for us?” she said quietly.

He gave his assent. “That would be good,” he said. His voice sounded strained.

Mma Ramotswe lowered her head. The smell of the beef was in her nostrils; and that of the mashed potatoes too, a slightly chalky, earthy smell. “We are grateful for this good food,” she said. “And we are grateful for the work of this hospital, which is good work. And if there are things that go wrong in this place, then we remember that there is always mercy. As mercy is shown to all of us, so we can show it to our brothers and sisters.”

She did not really know why she said this, but she said it, and when she stopped, and was silent, Tati Monyena was silent too, so that she heard his breathing from across the table. “That is all,” she said, and looked up.

When she saw his eyes, she did not need to tell him that she had found out what had happened.

“I saw you talking to the cleaner,” he said. “From my office. I saw you talking to her.”

Mma Ramotswe kept her gaze upon him. “If you knew, Rra, all along, then why…”