The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection: No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (13) by Alexander McCall Smith Page A

about her dream; there would be an opportunity to discuss that later. “He came into the office and, believe it or not, Rra, to begin with Mma Makutsi and I had no idea of who he was. He was a stranger, obviously, but that was all we could tell. And there are so many strangers about these days, there was no reason why we should know; he could have been anyone.”
    “But do they not have a photograph of him on the cover of his book?” asked Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “I thought that they put photos of authors on books. So that you know what you’re going to get.”
    Mma Ramotswe shook her head. “There is no photograph of Mr. Andersen. He is a very modest man. As you would be too, Rra, if you wrote a book.
The Principles of Car Maintenance
, for example. You would have a photograph of a car on it, not of you.”
    “I have not yet written a book,” mused Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “I have thought of it, but I have not started one yet.”
    Mma Ramotswe was eager to continue with her story, but could not let this remark go uncommented upon. “This book of yours, Rra: Would it be about car maintenance, or is it something different?”
    Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni looked bashful. “It will be something different, I think.”
    She looked at him expectantly. “Well, Rra?”
    He hesitated, as if deciding whether to trust her with a secret. “I thought of writing something for ladies.”
    Mma Ramotswe’s eyebrows shot up. “For ladies? That is very interesting, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni! What exactly will this book for ladies be?”
    “It will be on how to fix things in the house,” he said. “There are many things that a lady can fix herself. Washing-machine repairs, for example, are not all that difficult. Then there are things that can go wrong with cars. There is no reason why ladies should not change tyres, or do simple things like that. You do not need a man to do those things.” He paused. “That will be my book, Mma, if I ever write it, which I do not think I shall. I thought I might call it
Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s Book of Hints for Ladies
.”
    Mma Ramotswe clapped her hands together. “It will be a first-class book, Rra! They will sell it at that bookshop at Riverwalk. It will be in the window and take up all the space. Everybody will be buying it.”
    “I must write it first,” said Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. “And the problem is that I do not know how to do that. I am just a mechanic, Mma Ramotswe—as you well know. I am not a person who can write a book. You need a BA for that, and I do not have a BA.”
    They returned to the subject of Clovis Andersen.
    “What did he want?” asked Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni.
    “He did not want anything,” said Mma Ramotswe. “He was passing by and he thought he would call in and say hello. It was just because he is a detective too. It is called a professional courtesy call, I think.”
    Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni took a forkful of his mutton stew. “Passing by? How is it that a famous person like that is just
passing by
the Tlokweng Road? How many famous people do you see on the Tlokweng Road, Mma Ramotswe? I have never seen one—not one. It is not a place where famous people like to go.”
    “Those were my thoughts too,” said Mma Ramotswe. “So I asked him, and he told me.”
    She waited while Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni dealt with his mutton stew. Then she resumed. “He said that he was in Botswana because he was invited here to visit some lady.”
    “Some Motswana lady?”
    She shook her head. “No, an American lady who has lived here for a few years. This lady is working here on a scheme that the American government has to build libraries in schools. They are building a library in Serowe, I think, and another one at Selebi-Phikwe. There will be many libraries all over the place, and it will be very nice for the children. That is what she is doing.”
    Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni nodded. “It sounds like good work. And so Mr. Andersen knows this lady, and she asked him to come to see her. Has he not got a