The effect on Mr. Polopetsi of this remark was immediate. If he had wished to conceal his eagerness to occupy Mma Makutsi’s position, then this wish was overcome by his sheer and evident pleasure at the thought of doing more investigative work. And Mma Makutsi, sensing this, decided to take the matter further. “In fact,” she went on, slamming the drawer shut, “why don’t you take over my desk right now? Here, try this chair. You can put it up a bit by turning this bit here. See. That is for short people like you, Rra.”

Mr. Polopetsi put his mug down on Mma Makutsi’s desk and moved over to examine the chair. “That will be fine,” he said. “I can adjust it. It looks as if it needs a bit of oil, but we have plenty of that in the garage, don’t we, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni?”

It was meant to be a joke, and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni smiled weakly, and dutifully. He glanced again at Mma Ramotswe, who was now glaring at her assistant on the other side of the room. It seemed to Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni that the most tactful thing to do would be to leave the office, and he turned to Mr. Polopetsi. “I think that we should have tea a bit later, Rra,” he said. “The ladies are busy.”

“But Mma Makutsi…,” Mr. Polopetsi began, but was silenced by a stare from Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, who had already started to move towards the door. Picking up his mug, Mr. Polopetsi followed him out of the door and back into the garage.

Mma Ramotswe waited until the door had been closed before she addressed Mma Makutsi. “I am very sorry,” she said. “I am very sorry if I have offended you, Mma Makutsi. You know that I have a lot of respect for you. You know that, don’t you? I would never deliberately be rude to you. I really would not.”