This time, though, it was a bit different. She recognised the voices of the apprentices but there was another voice too, a deeper, more mature voice, and a woman’s voice behind that. And was that Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni joining the fray, saying something about somebody making a big mistake? He at least talked calmly, unlike the others, who seemed to be becoming increasingly shrill in expressing their view about whatever it was that lay behind the argument; for it was now clear that it was an argument, and not just a disagreement about some unimportant matter of girls or soccer.

Mma Makutsi put down the document she was reading and went into the small courtyard that separated the offices of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency from the premises of Tlokweng Road Speedy Motors. She stood in the doorway, quite still, in shock as she realised that the two strangers involved in the row, a man and a woman, were both police officers. As she appeared, everybody turned to look at her, and it was then that she saw the handcuffs that had been placed on Fanwell’s wrists.

Mma Makutsi gasped. “What is this? What’s happening?”

Charlie pointed at the police officers. “They have arrested Fanwell,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “This is a very bad mistake.”

The male police officer, the older of the two, gave him a glance. “We have a warrant,” he said patiently. “It’s perfectly in order. All signed. Official. We’re arresting him for handling stolen goods.”

Mma Makutsi shrieked, “No, no. You cannot do that. That is Fanwell. He is a very honest young man. He is not a thief, Rra!” She looked pleadingly at the policewoman. “Mma, you cannot let this big mistake happen. You cannot take this young man.” She moved forward to plead with the police officers. “Listen, Rra. Listen, Mma. I am a detective and I can tell you: this young man would never do anything like that. Guaranteed. Guaranteed. I am a detective. I’m telling you, this is not right.”

The policeman looked at her doubtfully. “You’re a detective, Mma? CID? Which office—Gaborone? Where is your card?”

“I’m not that sort of detective,” said Mma Makutsi. “I’m a private detective. The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency.”

The policewoman smiled. “Sorry, my sister, but you should keep quiet. This is proper police business. This is not play detectives.”

Mma Makutsi looked at Fanwell. “What is all this, Fanwell? Do you know what these people are saying?”

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni answered the question. “They say that he was repairing a stolen car for resale. Some friend of his had it. That is what they’re saying.”

“I didn’t know it was stolen, Mma,” said Fanwell, his voice shaking with fear. “I just did it as a favour for Chobie. He’s a friend of mine. I did not know it was stolen.”