‘We phone one of the big property management agents. They always know what’s happening. We ask them if they know of any suitable shops coming up on the market, preferably in Riverwalk. We tell them that we can pay very competitively.’ She looked at Mma Makutsi and smiled. ‘They, being eager to make a profit – as everybody is – will say, “As it happens, Mma, there is a shop coming up for renewal in Riverwalk and, if you’re prepared to pay a bit of a premium, we might be able to…”’

Which is exactly what they did say when Mma Ramotswe telephoned them later that day.

‘Mma Makutsi,’ she said, as she replaced the telephone in its cradle. ‘We have our culprit. Violet Sephotho. We have her motive. I think that is clear enough.’

Mma Makutsi punched the air in delight. ‘This time we have her!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve been waiting for this, Mma Ramotswe. Ever since those days at the Botswana Secretarial College when she laughed at me – mocked me, Mma Ramotswe, and said I would never get anywhere because I had difficult skin and came from Bobonong – ever since those days I have been waiting to expose her for what she is – a fifty per cent, if that, useless person —’

Mma Ramotswe held up a hand. ‘Wait a moment, Mma Makutsi. We have not yet brought Violet Sephotho to justice. All we have done is discovered the person we think is behind the campaign against Mma Soleti.’

‘But she can’t wriggle out of it,’ said Mma Makutsi. ‘Not even Violet Sephotho can get away with this.’

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. ‘Unfortunately, Mma, the world is full of people who have wriggled out of things. It is a very, very wriggly place.’ She paused before adding, ‘That is well known, Mma, I’m sorry to say.’

Chapter Sixteen

That is Not How You Treat a Sausage

Mma Makutsi did not appear in the offices of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency on Monday, as she had to take Itumelang to the baby clinic. ‘There is nothing wrong with him, Mma,’ she reassured Mma Ramotswe over the telephone. ‘They want to check that he is putting on weight. And he is, Mma. He is getting heavier and heavier.’

‘That is good,’ said Mma Ramotswe. ‘A fat baby is a happy baby.’

There was silence at the other end of the line. ‘I did not say that he is fat, Mma. I said that he is putting on weight. That is different.’

Mma Ramotswe was quick to assure her assistant that she did not think of Itumelang as being fat; she had merely pointed out that there were at least some fat babies, and these fat babies tended to be happy.