IT WAS NOT UNTIL the following morning that it became apparent what Mma Makutsi had been up to while Mma Ramotswe had been on her mission to find Mma Mapoi. Mma Ramotswe had forgotten the conversation with Charlie, and the sudden expression of interest on Mma Makutsi’s face when he had remarked on the cheapness of the bed he had seen. That attention became something more than interest once Mma Ramotswe had left the office. Mr. Polopetsi, who had been sitting idly in the garage, had been called in and left in charge of the agency, while Mma Makutsi prepared to go to the bank.

“Answer the phone, Rra,” he had been instructed. “Don’t do anything. Just answer the phone and take any messages.”

“And if a client comes in? What then? Am I to send that person away? Away to the competition?”

Mma Makutsi had looked at him in astonishment. “Competition? What competition are you talking about?”

“Somewhere else,” said Mr. Polopetsi, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of the window. “You cannot send customers away. No business can.”

Mma Makutsi knew what he was driving at. Ever since he had been taken on at the garage—and Mma Makutsi regarded Mr. Polopetsi as working for Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, and not for Mma Ramotswe—it had been his ambition to have his own clients. But that could not be allowed, or certainly not at this stage, because he could not be trusted to get things right. And there was another reason that, for Mma Makutsi at least, was a very powerful one for keeping Mr. Polopetsi in the background. This was the simple fact that the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency was, as the name so clearly spelled out, an agency run by ladies. Mr. Polopetsi, for all his modesty and keenness, was a man, and if he were to be given substantial authority, could the business still in good faith be called a ladies’ detective agency? Mma Makutsi thought not.

“There is no competition, Rra,” she said patiently. “We are the only detective agency in town. If somebody doesn’t want to come to us, then that is just too bad. Their problems will remain unsolved.”

She waited for him to say something, but he did not. “So I think,” she went on, “that it’s best for you just to take the client’s name and explain that the detectives”—and she stressed the word detectives—“will be back later on. Make an appointment for anybody to see me tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Polopetsi looked at her. “But would it not be better to arrange an appointment with Mma Ramotswe herself? Why speak to the dog when you can speak to its master?”

Mma Makutsi stiffened. When she responded, her voice was icy. “I’m not sure that I understand what you’re saying, Rra. What is this about dogs?”