mean something elseâas Mma Ramotswe had read in a magazineâand she felt a different word was needed. She knew that she could have called her a business partner, but that was cumbersome, almost pernickety, and Mma Makutsi was so much more than a business partner. She was the person who made the tea, who commented on the state of the world as they drank the tea she made, who answered the phone, did the filing, and kept the young mechanics in their place. It was a large role, one for which the term
business partner
simply seemed inadequate, but which seemed fully worthy of the label
co-director.
The compliment might well have slipped out unnoticed, but it did not. Mma Makutsi heard it and its effect was electric. She seemed to grow in stature, become a bit taller, and smile a bit more broadly.
The man nodded at the introductions. âAnd my name is Sengupta,â he said. âAnd my sister â¦â He gestured to the woman beside him. âMy sisterâs good name is Chattopadhyay, which was the name of her late husband, my brother-in-law. It is a long name and so people call her Miss Rose, which is easier. That is not her real first name, but it is the one that people use. Just remember: red flower with thorns, and you will not forget her name.â
There was something earnest about his manner that endeared him to Mma Ramotswe. She smiled encouragingly. âIt is a fine name to have.â She had been discreetly studying their visitors and the memory she had been trying to locate had now surfaced.
Sengupta Office Supplies
âshe had seen their advertisements in the newspaper. Paper clips, staples, copier paper â¦
âExactly,â said Mr. Sengupta.
Mma Ramotswe looked surprised.
âYou mentioned paper clips,â he said.
She had muttered the words without realising, as unintentionally as she had said
co-director.
It was a worrying prospect: if one startedto say what one was thinking, the results could be very embarrassing. She might think,
Oh, there goes Mma Makutsi againâsounding off about the usual things
, and were she to say that, the consequences would be awkward. There would be all sorts of misunderstandings â¦Â or would they be misunderstandings at all? Truth would break out, rather like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and we would all understand one another perfectly well, because we would know what we thought of each other.
âPaper clips?â said Mma Ramotswe. âOh yes, paper clips. Youâre the office supplies man, arenât you, Rra?â
Mr. Sengupta seemed proud that his business had been recognised. âThat is exactly who I am, Mma.â He looked about the office. âPerhaps you use some of our items?â
Mma Makutsi shook her head. âWe do not,â she said. âWe go to a company out near Broadhurst. They areââ
Mma Ramotswe shot a glance in her assistantâs direction. âI have seen your catalogue, Rra,â she said quickly. âThey are very fine products, I think.â
âThere is room for more than one company,â said Mr. Sengupta generously. âCompetition in business is a good thing, I believe.â
âIt is very important,â said Mma Makutsi.
âBut you are the only detective agency in town,â went on Mr. Sengupta. âUnless there is some other outfit that I am unaware of. Perhaps it is in disguise.â He laughed at his own joke.
âThat is very funny, Rra,â said Mma Makutsi. âThey would be very good at disguises, but nobody would know they were there.â
Mr. Senguptaâs response was touched with annoyance. âThat is what I meant,â he said.
Mma Ramotswe judged it was time to take control of the situation. âPlease sit down, Mr. Sengupta â¦Â and Miss Rose.â She gestured to the two client chairs before her desk. The chairs had always been in that positionâever since they had moved into