The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection by Smith Alexander McCall

Author:Smith, Alexander McCall [Smith, Alexander McCall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime, Humour
ISBN: 9780307907158
Amazon: 0307907155
Goodreads: 12919255
Publisher: Anchor
Published: 2012-03-12T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THERE ARE SOME NICE PEOPLE ON THE ROAD

CLOVIS ANDERSEN returned from the far side of the country, exhausted by the journey, to receive the message that Mma Ramotswe had left for him. In this she gave him no news of the awful events that had occurred, but simply proposed that they meet for tea at the President Hotel, suggesting that if he telephoned her they could agree on a time. He did, and they met on the day after his return. It was a hot morning, but even though the air was heavy, it held a hint of what might come; somewhere, still far away, but building up, there were rain clouds. And the rain would bring relief from the heat and the dryness, and the earth would drink it up thirstily and suddenly be touched with the green of new growth.

“So hot,” said Clovis Andersen, as he sat down opposite Mma Ramotswe on the hotel verandah. “So awfully hot.”

“Then we shall have tea,” said Mma Ramotswe. “That will make you feel better.”

The tea did not take long to arrive, and as Mma Ramotswe poured it from the stout white pot she began to reveal to Clovis Andersen the troubles they were facing.

“I know these are not your problems, Rra,” she began, “but we … that is, Mma Makutsi and I, feel that you will have some idea of what to do.”

Clovis Andersen stopped her. “Hold on, Mma Ramotswe. I may have written that book, but really I wouldn’t hold myself out as … as an expert.”

Mma Ramotswe could not believe that he was serious. “But, Rra, your book is famous. You have a rule for just about everything. Rule No. 6, for example …” She began to quote Rule No. 6; Clovis Andersen, barely concealing his surprise that there should be anybody who remembered that there was a Rule No. 6, let alone anybody who was capable of quoting it verbatim, listened in silence. Then: “Yes, Mma, that is indeed Rule No. 6, but all I’m saying is that I’m not necessarily able to sort everything out.” He stared at her, as if willing her to read something into his protestations.

Mma Ramotswe was not deterred. “Let me tell you, Rra,” she said. “Let me tell you about a very dreadful thing that has happened. We have a lady here who is the matron of an orphan farm. She is called Mma Potokwane, and she has many fine qualities. She is traditionally built, and she makes very famous fruit cake. She will do anything for those orphans—anything—and for many of them she is their mother. Mma Potokwane has more children than any other woman in Botswana—she is mother to many hundreds of children who are now grown up. That is what she is like, Rra.”

Clovis Andersen listened politely. “It sounds as if she must be much appreciated, Mma.”

Mma Ramotswe replied that this was true, but it seemed to her that this appreciation did not extend to some members of her board.

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