The Double Comfort Safari Club - By Alexander McCall Smith Page 0,74

photograph from the letter. “So this is …” She stopped. She had seen a photograph of Mrs. Grant in the obituary that the lawyer had sent her. The late Mrs. Grant was thin, even gaunt. This Mrs. Grant was by contrast traditionally built. The late Mrs. Grant had grey hair, cut short, and a prominent nose. This Mrs. Grant had blonde, shoulder-length hair and a very small nose. They were not the same person; she had absolutely no doubt about it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MOST UNFORTUNATE

IT WAS FORTUNATE that Mma Makutsi chose this moment of dismaying discovery to engage Tebogo in conversation about the antics of the monkey in the tree above them. The monkey, which had been joined by three or four of its troop, was chattering excitedly, competing with its fellows over some morsel it had found in the higher branches. Leaving her assistant, Mma Ramotswe took Mighty to one side.

“There is something wrong,” she whispered.

Mighty drew in his breath. “You don’t think he deserves the money?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s the wrong person.”

Mighty looked puzzled. Glancing over his shoulder to check that they could not be overheard by Tebogo, he assured her that there was no question but that Tebogo had looked after Mrs. Grant. “It is in the book,” he said. “And he remembers her.” He gestured to the letter. “That letter is signed by Mrs. Grant, isn’t it? Yes, look at it. That says Grant.”

Mma Ramotswe frowned. “I know,” she whispered. “I know that. But that lady in the picture is not Mrs. Grant. I have her photograph with my things in the room. I’ll show you, if you like. That is not the lady.”

Mighty made a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t see how this can be,” he said.

Mma Ramotswe fiddled anxiously with the papers. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I cannot pay the money to the wrong man. I have my duty to Mrs. Grant’s lawyer, a certain Mr. Maxwell. He is my client, Rra. Can you see that?”

Mighty nodded, again looking furtively at Tebogo. “I understand, Mma. But I just don’t see how this can be. A lady called Mrs. Grant came to this camp …”

Mma Ramotswe took hold of his forearm. “Hold on, Rra. You said that a lady called Mrs. Grant came to the camp …”

“I did. And I have already shown you the evidence of that.”

Mma Ramotswe drew him further away from the other two, who were still engaged in their observation of the monkeys. “A lady called Mrs. Grant,” said Mma Ramotswe. She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if testing each word. “Do you think that Grant is a common name, Rra? I’ve certainly seen it before. Have you?”

Mighty considered this. “I think so,” he said. “We’ve had other Grants before. Maybe it’s a common name in America, like … like Tebogo in Botswana. Or Ramotswe …”

Mma Ramotswe smiled, but did not let the joke distract her. “You’ve had other Grants before, you say. But not at the same time.”

“No, not at the same time.”

It was all falling into place. “Mighty,” she said, “what if there were two Mma Ramotswes? Or two Mma Grants?”

Mighty frowned. “Two Mma Ramotswes?” He stared at her, and then he put his hand to his cheek and stroked it. “Oh,” he said. Then, “Oh,” again.

“Oh,” echoed Mma Ramotswe. She looked in his eyes. He was a sharp-witted man. He understood. But there was one final piece of the jigsaw to fit into place. “Can you think of another camp with an animal in its name?”

Mighty answered quickly. “Our neighbour,” he said. “Three miles away. Lion’s Tail Camp.”

“Can you take me there?” asked Mma Ramotswe.

Mighty looked doubtful. “Right now?”

“Yes. Right now, Rra.”

“It’s getting late. We’ll have to go by boat.”

“I’m ready to go.”

Mighty still looked worried. “I don’t like to travel on the water at night. It would be dark by the time we came back.”

“Give me a torch,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I shall sit in the front and shine it ahead of us. If there are any hippos, we shall see their eyes in the beam of the torch.”

“You are a brave lady, Mma. Maybe that is why you’re a detective.”

Mma Ramotswe laughed. “I am no braver than anybody else.” Was that true? she wondered. There was Mma Makutsi, after all … “I think that I shall leave my assistant back here. I don’t think that she will want to come.”

WITH MIGHTY’S EXPERT NAVIGATION through the spreading channels of the Delta, it took them