Her words clearly brought him relief. “That is good to hear. You see…” His voice tailed off.

She spoke gently. “See what, Rra?”

“You see, I have made a mistake in that deed. I did not mean to make it, but I made it. I described the plot of land incorrectly. I put in the number of the neighbouring plot, and it is also the neighbouring plot in the land map that accompanies the deed. I was careless.”

A smile broke out on Mma Ramotswe’s face. “So Mr. Kereleng signed a deed that transferred his neighbour’s house rather than his?”

“I’m afraid so. Which makes me look very foolish.”

“And you didn’t tell him?”

Mr. Bosilong stared down at his desk. “Everything was done through her. I had my instructions from her. I should have advised him to get independent legal advice. I did not. It would not look good for me if there was a complaint.”

“So it’s a mess?”

“It’s a mess, Mma.”

But she did not think it was. “Tell me, Rra: If you took that deed to the land registry, what would happen?”

“It would be null and void. They would check it, and they would see the mistake. They would see that Mr. Kereleng does not have title to pass on the property in the deed. They would throw it out.”

“So you need to tell Violet Sephotho that the thing you did for her has not been done properly.”

“I will look very stupid.”

Mma Ramotswe rose to her feet. “You are not stupid, Rra. You have saved a man from being very badly treated. Your mistake was a good mistake. It was the best mistake I have heard of for a long time.”

“I cannot bring myself to tell her that the deed is void and that she must get out. It’s not easy, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe understood. But there was a way round this, she thought, and so she suggested that Mr. Bosilong type out an amendment to be signed by Mr. Kereleng. Of course he would not sign it, but at least it would make the situation easier for Mr. Bosilong. She would go to see Violet on his behalf. She was quite happy to do that.

The lawyer listened to the suggestion. Slowly he began to smile. “It does make it easier, Mma. It really does. I am not a coward-normally-but now I am in a very big mess, and you have made it so much easier for me.”

“Then type it out right now, Rra,” she said. “Then I shall go and give it to Violet Sephotho.”

“He will never sign it,” said Mr. Bosilong.

“Of course he won’t,” said Mma Ramotswe. “That’s the whole idea.”

“You are very clever, Mma,” said Mr. Bosilong.

Mma Ramotswe shook her head. “I am not a clever lady,” she said. “I am an ordinary lady.”

Mr. Bosilong would have none of this. “No,” he said. “You are clever. Lawyers think they are clever, but then they are not.”

Mma Ramotswe was not sure whether he expected her to refute this, but she did not, and the subject of who was clever and who was not was left where it was.

SHE WAITED until after five o’clock before she went to Violet’s house, or, as she reminded herself-with some satisfaction-Mr. Kereleng’s house. The afternoon passed slowly, as there was little happening in the office. At first Mma Ramotswe had decided not to tell Mma Makutsi of her visit that morning to Joe Bosilong because she was concerned that her assistant would find it difficult to be professionally detached from any case involving Violet Sephotho. As the day wore on, however, she found it increasingly difficult not to tell her the good news that she had discovered for Mr. Kereleng. Eventually she succumbed to the temptation, and told Mma Makutsi about her visit to the lawyer and his extraordinary disclosure.

As she had anticipated, Mma Makutsi was ecstatic. “That is very, very exciting news, Mma. I am so pleased for poor Mr. Kereleng.”

Mma Ramotswe watched her. Yes, Mma Makutsi was pleased for Mr. Kereleng, but she was undoubtedly much more pleased at the foiling of Violet Sephotho’s plans. And Mma Makutsi’s next remark confirmed that. “There are some ladies who deserve to be exposed,” she said. “Violet Sephotho is number one on the list. In fact, she is the only one on the list. I cannot wait to see her face when we tell her. Oh, I cannot wait, Mma! It is the best thing ever!”

Mma Ramotswe held up a hand. “I don’t think that we should make too much of a fuss, Mma. I was just going to slip over there after five, when she should be back from work. I will simply tell her that the deed is invalid and needs to be signed again. Of course she’ll know that Mr. Kereleng won’t sign, so she’ll know that her little trick has not worked.”

“Little trick?” exclaimed Mma Makutsi. “Mma, it is not a little trick-it is a great big theft! No, she must be fully exposed. She must be shown for what she is. She must be made to crawl in the dust, Mma. In the dust.”

Mma Ramotswe understood the passion behind all this. After all, Violet Sephotho had tried to seduce Phuti Radiphuti away from Mma Makutsi, and it was understandable that she should feel aggrieved. But Mma Ramotswe was not a vindictive woman, and she did not relish the humiliation of anybody, no matter how deserving of such treatment.

“It is not a good idea to make anybody crawl,” she said mildly. “Either in the dust or anywhere else. I do not think we need to do that, Mma.”

Mma Makutsi appeared to take the reproach well. “I am very angry with her, Mma. I did not mean that I wanted to see her crawl in the dust-not really. I just wanted her to know that she cannot get away with such things. That is all.” She waited a moment, and then continued, “And I shall not say anything when we go to see her. I promise you that, Mma. I shall be silent, and in the background.”

Mma Ramotswe realised that her assistant would be gravely upset if she were to be prevented from accompanying her on the visit to Violet Sephotho, and so she agreed, reluctantly, that she could come. “But remember, Mma,” she warned. “I shall do the talking.”

“I shall remember that,” said Mma Makutsi and then, privately-but spotted by Mma Ramotswe-she closed her eyes in utterly pleasurable anticipation.

SO!” said Violet Sephotho. “So, this is a very big surprise for me. Two famous detectives on my doorstep. What an honour!”

“I hope you are well, Mma,” said Mma Ramotswe. “And I hope you will invite us in.”

Violet Sephotho’s eyes grew wide. “Of course, of course,” she said coquettishly. “We cannot have Mma Ramotswe and…” She knew Mma Makutsi’s name, of course; she knew it well, as they had studied together at the Botswana Secretarial College, but it suited her to seem to forget. “And…”

“Grace Makutsi,” hissed Mma Makutsi. “You remember me.”

Mma Ramotswe threw a warning glance at her assistant.

“Of course,” said Violet. “Grace Makutsi. The Botswana Secretarial College. Sorry to have forgotten, but some people are hard to remember. Anyway, please both come in.”

They stepped into the front room of the house, a living room that doubled up as a dining room. The room had been recently painted, and there were several framed prints on the wall. There was a picture of the Eiffel Tower and one of New York.

“That is Paris,” said Violet. “And that is New York. You have heard of these places?”

“I have heard of them,” said Mma Ramotswe.

“And you, Grace?” asked Violet.

“I have heard of them too,” said Mma Makutsi through tightened lips.

“And then there is Johannesburg,” said Violet airily. “That is such an exciting city, and it’s not so far away. I will be going there next weekend, I think. Four hours by car.”

“It is very easy to get to Johannesburg,” said Mma Ramotswe pleasantly. “My father used to work in the mines there in the days when all the men went off to South Africa for work. Things are so different now.”

“Oh yes,” said Violet. “There are many different things today. I am always finding different things.” She looked at her visitors and smiled. Mma Ramotswe noticed that she had applied thick purple eyeliner in copious quantities.