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It was a bright, clear morning, and Mma Grace Makutsi, Assistant Detective, strode purposefully across the Kgale Hill Mall toward her workplace. She would have run, but she had her dignity to maintain, as well as the new pair of Stuart Weitzman heels she had recently purchased from Rra Sesupeng's Treadwell Shoes.
Her employer was already in the office, large as life, making a pot of red bush tea. "Mma Makutsi!" Mma Ramotswe handed her a cup of tea and frowned. "I have never once known you to be late. What has happened?"
"Dumela, mma. I am sorry to be late, but the bus was very slow this morning. Many people getting on and getting off. Everyone is going into the city for that American movie." Mma Makutsi accepted the tea, though she privately thought it smelled like rats.
Mma Ramotswe's face showed clear comprehension of the problem. "I had forgotten that the big casting call was today. So many people want to become an American film legend. It is very exciting!"
"I had forgotten also," Mma Makutsi admitted, "or I might have thought to leave earlier."
"Well, there is no harm done. We have had no new mystery yet today except for the question of my assistant detective's mysterious disappearance, and now that has been solved. I was giving myself a full hour before I became very worried about you."
"Thank you, mma." Mma Makutsi sat down at her desk and dutifully began to sort through the post.
"I must say, it is exciting," Mma Romotswe added. "A film set right in Botswana! And not a nature documentary, but a real historical movie. I suppose there will be little inconveniences."
"I do not like it," said Mma Makutsi firmly. "All these comings and goings, and everyone off of their head, and silly girls leaving their jobs to become American actresses. We are not going to have a film industry in Botswana. It is foolish to set up such grandiose hopes at so much expense."
Mma Romotswe, however, was a wise woman, and she was not fooled by this pronouncement. "Mma Makutsi, do you want to go down to the city and try to be an extra in the movie?"
"Mma Ramotswe, I am proud to be an assistant detective and I do not wish to become some kind of crazy God-knows-what actress in an American film." She took hold of the first letter of the day, rolled it into the first typewriter, and typed BILL FO SE VICES. In the silence that followed, something occurred to her, and she looked up to see Mma Ramotswe's face lost in thought. "Mma? Do you wish to go down to the city?"
"It would be a terrible thing," Mma Ramotswe replied, "if there were only skinny little underfed girls who have quit their secretarial jobs walking around in the background with tight skirts. There should be proud, proper Batswana women in the film. And you and I, Mma Makutsi, are very proper Batswana."
"I suppose that is true," Mma Makutsi sighted. "But here, this is a letter for you from Mrs Andrea Curtin. And here are the accounts to be signed. And an advertisement for mobile phones.... Mma Ramotswe, if we had mobile phones, you could tell me when you were away, and I could tell you when I was running late."
"Grace Makutsi, you have been late exactly one time, and between you and Rra Matekoni, someone always knows where I am, even when I am trying to hide away from you! I do not think we should be investing in a mobile phone. We are a sensible business."
"Ee, mma. May I at least request again an electric typewriter? With keys that work?"
"That is very clever of you, to ask for the expensive thing, and then to ask for what you really want in its place. I applaud your cleverness."
"Thank you, mma, but--"
"And I must ask you to continue doing a very excellent job with the typewriters currently available. I would rather pay your salary so that you can eat and buy shoes. So you must ask yourself if you wish to have an electric typewriter, or if you wish to have new shoes."
"Nya, mma! That is a very difficult dilemma when you put it that way."
Mma Romotswe laughed and opened her letter. "Mrs Curtin is attending the University right here in Gabarone next semester! She wishes to meet for tea when she is here." Mma Romotswe bustled into her office to draft a response.
On her heels, the bane of Mma Makutsi's existence came into the office. "Dumela, Ninety-seven Percent. Is the Boss Lady around this morning?"
Mma Ramotswe was patience itself. "I am right here, BK."
"Ee, mma!" BK faked a shriek, one hand over his mouth like a schoolgirl. "I didn't see you! Are you losing weight for your wedding?"
Mma Ramotswe was not impressed. "I expect Mr JLB Matekoni knows exactly what size I was when he proposed to marry me. I do not intend to make any changes. What can the Number One Ladies' Detective Agency do for you today, rra?"
"I must tell you, Mma Ramotswe, that I have been professionally ruined. Ruined! By that terrible Mma Kefentse. Who puts margarine in ladies' hair and rinses her clients' scalps with mouthwash! Yet it is she and not me that has secured a position on the new movie."
Mma Makutsi frowned at him. "But you have a good business right here! Why would you wish to work on an American film?"
BK shook his head. "Mma Makutsi, you have no sense of romance. Bechuanaland is a real American film. And based on a very good novel, too. Car chases in the Kalahari! Old family secrets! An illicit romance!"
Mma Makutsi frowned at this. "I prefer licit romances, thank you very much."
"So does everyone, Ninety-seven Percent, but some of us must take what we can get. My very precious Mma Precious Ramotswe, they are looking for a consultant on the film, to tell them about how Batswana women wear their hair. Should there be anyone else in all of Gabarone who should be offered this position? I ask you."
"BK, it is an historical film," Mma Ramotswe said gently. "Perhaps you are too ... trendy for them?"
"Ee, mma. The Last Chance Hair Salon is far ahead of Hollywood's time. But I think I could be at least as historical as Mma Kefentse. Margarine, I tell you! Mouthwash! I was not even considered. It is a hard thing, a very hard thing for a true artist to stand by and watch his art be misrepresented to the entire world."
"So you wish for me to expose her nefarious business practices?"
"Ee, mma. Find out for me why I was not even asked to take on the role. What if a client asks me about this, and I have to say, 'no, a margarine saleswoman from Molepolole won the contract instead of me.'"
"You want me to go down into the town, when it is full of craziness and traffic and what-what, and preserve your professional reputation?"
"That is exactly it. I don't want my customers knowing that they chose that wretched woman over me."
"But I thought that Mma Kefentse was a friend of yours." Mma Makutsi was confused.
"She was my friend until she became the consultant for Bechuanaland, without so much as telling the producers that there were other prominent hairdressers in Gabarone."
"But she does have a very successful business, right near where they will be shooting. It might just have been a logical choice."
"Mma Makutsi!" Mma Ramotswe's tone was sharp. "I think we need not challenge poor BK on his professional knowledge." She had a glint in her eye, though, as she turned to BK. "Ee, rra, I will undertake your case. And I will do it gratis, because you have always been such a good friend to the Number One Ladies' Detective Agency."
"You are very kind, Number One Lady."
"Mma Makutsi and I will go down into the noise and craziness for you and investigate whatever underhandedness your competitor has perpetrated. In return, you will do me two small favors. The first is to welcome anyone who comes by the agency today, to take their number as Mma Makutsi would do, and tell them that we will ring them in the morning."
"This is very simple, and also allows me to stay fresh on all the gossip. It is no trouble. What else?"
"You will also do me the favor of dropping by Rra Matekoni's garage and explaining to him that I may be delayed this evening, and that it is on your account."
"It is always a pleasure to visit with JLB, and I am sure he will be forgiving. What else?"
"That is all, but you must be aware that the Americans may very well have chosen Mma Kefentse for their own reasons, and I may not be able to make a change in their decision."
"Ee, mma. The Americans may wish to hire a charlatan, but at least my own good name will be preserved."
"Without a doubt, you are the finest hairdresser in Botswana. Mma Makutsi, get your bag. We are going downtown."
Mma Makutsi got her bag and held her tongue until they were in Mma Ramotswe's van. Then she said, "Mma Ramotswe, you are a devious, wicked woman."
"Nya, mma! I am doing a favor for a very good friend!"
"You know perfectly well that Mma Kefentse is a reputable hairdresser. Tabitha Lisindi goes to see her all the time. Not everyone comes up to Kgale Hill to get their hair done, and there is no mystery in that."
Mma Romotswe laughed. "Mma Makutsi, you know that, and I know that, and I am certain that in his heart of hearts, even BK knows that. But there is no harm done in looking into the matter. We shall first go by Mma Kefentse's salon to interview her clientele, and then we will go and share our insights with the film producers."
"You mean, we will visit with the ladies at the salon, and then we will stand in the casting line for film extras, and BK will watch the store for the day."
"This is what I mean, exactly. BK runs a busy salon and has no interest in hair styles from 1966. He does not truly want to be involved with the film. He only wishes to be able to say that he was considered. We will give his name to Mma Kefentse's employer, in case she needs additional assistance, and then he will be able to say that he was considered, but decided not to take on the project."
"Oh! So it is a question of dignity."
"Exactly. Now both the Last Chance Hair Salon and the Number One Ladies' Detective Agency will be able to do what we truly wish to do today, while still maintaining our professional pride."
"Ee, mma," said Mma Makutsi, "you are very wise."