She parked the tiny white van near the museum; a shady place under a tree had just been vacated, and she nosed into that, ignoring the knocking sound which continued to come from the engine. She would have to speak to Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni about that when he came back, unless…she spoke to him first about the whining sound that his own truck seemed to make. If one had a mote in one’s eye, then talking about the mote in another’s could preclude discussion of one’s own. She switched off the ignition and sat quite still as she contemplated the idea that had just occurred to her. If she managed to distract Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s attention from her van, then she could speak to Charlie about fixing it in his spare time. Charlie would not say anything about her having to get a new one, and, if he did, she could ignore his advice. And then if Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni raised the subject, the tiny white van would be in good health again and there would be no awkward discussions about replacing it.

Cheered by the thought of this neat solution, Mma Ramotswe locked her van and crossed the road to the back of the Standard Bank. She looked at her watch anxiously; it was a few minutes before one, and she hoped that Mr. Sekape had not gone off for his lunch early. Even if he had, she would be able to find out where he had gone and seek him out there. But it would be easier to get him here, in the mall, where she could take him off to the President Hotel verandah a few yards away and make her disclosure.

She entered the bank. A security guard at the entrance looked her up and down and nodded to her.

“You have decided that I am not a bank robber,” said Mma Ramotswe.

The guard laughed. “You are right, Mma,” he said. “Bank robbers do not look at all like you. They’re…” He tailed off, and looked to Mma Ramotswe for help.

Mma Ramotswe understood. “You’ve never seen one, Rra? No? That’s just as well, I think. We do not go in for bank robbers in Botswana.”

The guard looked relieved. “I suppose I know what to do, which is nothing.”

Mma Ramotswe did not conceal her surprise, and the guard continued: “I have been told that I must not try to disarm anybody who comes to rob the bank. I have to bear in mind the safety of the customers. That is the first thing I must do.”

Mma Ramotswe smiled. “That is probably best, Rra. And anyway, here in Botswana if anybody came to rob the bank you’d probably know exactly who they were. You could simply threaten to tell their mothers. That would put a stop to any bank robbery.”