She stopped on impulse. Mma Ramotswe did not patronise beauty salons, although she knew many who did, including, she suspected, Mma Makutsi. There was something about this salon that intrigued her, though, and she had time on her hands. Mma Potokwane was not expecting her, and so it did not matter when she arrived at the orphan farm. If the initial consultation was free, then it would be interesting to see what they suggested. And there was another reason for stopping: as a private detective, Mma Ramotswe was acutely aware of the importance of contacts, who might provide information at some point in the future. The people who ran beauty salons were known to be repositories of gossip, and the owner of the Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon would probably be no exception to that general rule. There would be no harm, she thought, in making a new acquaintance who was so placed.

As she parked the van, she became aware of a face and then a pair of eyes peering out at her from the dark interior of the building. She stepped out of the van and closed the door behind her, which was the signal for the face and eyes to emerge too; now she saw a woman in a blue dress, rather like a nurse’s tunic, standing in the doorway watching her. The woman greeted her as she approached.

“Dumela, Mma.” An outstretched hand.

The greetings over, the woman gave her name. “I am Mma Soleti. I am the owner here.”

Mma Ramotswe inclined her head. “I am Precious Ramotswe.” There was a moment’s hesitation; it did not always help to say that one was a detective, but honesty, she felt, required it. “I have a small business, the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency.”

Mma Soleti smiled, exposing strikingly white teeth. “I know that place. I sometimes drive past it. There is a garage too.”

“That is Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors. The mechanic is my husband.”

Mma Soleti nodded. “I hear he is very good.”

Mma Ramotswe beamed with pleasure. She never tired of hearing compliments paid to her husband. “I am very lucky to be married to such a man,” she said. “He is kind.”

“That is very good, Mma.”

A brief silence ensued before Mma Ramotswe spoke again. “A consultation … I was wondering …”

Mma Soleti clapped her hands together. “And I was hoping! I said to myself, ‘This is a lady who will do very well with a bit of guidance and adjustment.’ You have made a very good decision, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe drew back involuntarily. “Just an initial consultation, Mma. I don’t know if I want to do too much. I am traditionally built, you see, and I am not normally one who bothers too much about these matters of fashion.”