Clovis Andersen consulted the papers in front of him and frowned. “They’re not on the tender list,” he said.

“That is the firm,” said the secretary. “They are the ones who are going to do the job. You will find a copy of the letter of appointment from the board in there.” She gestured to the file. “I copied it myself. It is all in order.”

“All in order, not in order,” muttered Clovis Andersen. “Can you find that one, Mma Ramotswe?”

Mma Ramotswe paged through the remaining papers in the file. “Here,” she said. “This is the one.” She examined it more closely. “It is an agreement to build the hall and kitchen for three million and six hundred thousand pula.”

“That’s right,” said the secretary. “That is a lot of money, Mma.”

Clovis Andersen took the letter from Mma Ramotswe and read through it quickly. “Interesting,” he said at last. “The highest tender from the list was just over two million.”

“So the contract was not awarded to the lowest bid,” said Mma Ramotswe.

“No,” said Clovis Andersen. “Of course that sometimes happens. There may be some reason why a more expensive contractor is preferred. For example, he may do better quality work. Or … or he may be a relative.” His tone became more ominous. “Or the contractor may be paying a kickback to the person awarding the contract. There are many possible reasons.”

The secretary drew in her breath. “That is very bad,” she hissed. “I did not know anything about it, Mma Ramotswe.”

Mma Ramotswe reassured her. “Of course you didn’t, Mma. Nobody is blaming you.”

The secretary looked satisfied. “I know about those people,” she said. “They came round to look at the site.”

“Kalahari Forward Construction?” asked Mma Ramotswe. “They came here?”

“Yes, they came here, Mma. Their boss came. My brother knows who he is. He used to drive a taxi for him when he was in the taxi business. Then he became a builder and did quite well. My brother did not like him.”

Mma Ramotswe looked interested. “And what was this man’s name, Mma? Do you remember?”

“He is called Sephotho,” said the secretary. “He is a tall man who has lost a finger on his left hand. It looks like this.” She held up a hand with one digit tucked back.

Mma Ramotswe felt her heart pound within her. “Sephotho?” she said. “And has he got a sister, this man?”

“Yes. My brother says she is not a very nice woman …”

“Called Violet?”

“I think so,” said the secretary. “Violet, or Rose. Something like that. He said that she should really have a name like Thorn or Cabbage.”

Mma Ramotswe shuffled the papers back into the file and handed it to the secretary. “I think we are going to go and look for Mma Potokwane,” she said, indicating to Clovis Andersen that he should follow her. “We have some very interesting news to give her.”