Read The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection: No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (13) for Free Online Page B

rough-hewn planks.
    Clarkson Putumelo got out of the van and walked briskly towards Phuti Radiphuti. “Very good land,” he said, even before greetings were exchanged. “Good building land.”
    He did not address Mma Makutsi. He did not greet her in the proper, approved way. He did not even appear to see her.
    Phuti smiled at the builder. “I chose it carefully,” he said. “Or rather, my wife and I chose it.” He turned to Mma Makutsi and smiled as he spoke.
My wife
.
    Clarkson Putumelo half turned his head towards Mma Makutsi, but did not look at her. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to greet her, but that moment passed and he turned away again. “Good building land,” he repeated. “No problems here. You’ll want to put the house over there, in the middle, right? Then you can make a drive which goes from there to there.” He pointed out the proposed route of the drive. “There will be no problem with that. Simple as one, two, three.”
    Mma Makutsi seethed. Nothing was as simple as one, two, three—even one, two, three itself was rarely that straightforward—you could miss something when counting things, even a child understood that. And who was this ill-behaved Putumelo, anyway? Who was he to arrive like this and pay no attention to the wife—the
wife
—of his client? It was a breathtaking display of arrogance, she thought, and she could just imagine what Mma Ramotswe would say when she told her about it. Or Mma Potokwane … Mma Potokwane might have her faults, but she would know how to deal with a man like this with a few well-chosen words, such that he would be decisively and deftly put in his place.
    “I’ll walk around with you, Rra,” said Mr. Putumelo. “We can see how it looks close up.”
    “And me,” said Mma Makutsi. “And me too.”
    Clarkson Putumelo frowned, as if he had suddenly heard something quite unexpected. He looked at Phuti Radiphuti for confirmation. “Everybody can come,” he said briskly.
    They began their inspection. Mma Makutsi said nothing, but glowered with resentment. She had rarely come across so ill-mannered a man as this Clarkson Putumelo, and she wondered how Phuti Radiphuti could possibly have selected him. But then men do not see things the same way we do, she thought. They have different eyes.
Men have different eyes
. It was a very appropriate observation, she decided, and she would write it down and pass it on to Mma Ramotswe for future use, perhaps, when sayings of this nature would be required, which she knew from experience could be at any time.

CHAPTER FOUR
     

I SHALL SIMPLY LOOK UP IN THE SKY
     
    M MA MAKUTSI GAVE Mma Ramotswe a full account of her meeting with Mr. Clarkson Putumelo, sparing no detail of the insulting way in which he had treated her.
    “He was very attentive to Phuti,” she said. “All the time, he looked at Phuti and not at me. He never noticed nor spoke to me. I am not exaggerating this, Mma Ramotswe—it is as if I wasn’t there.” She paused, her anger mounting at the recollection of the humiliating encounter. “It was as if I was … some nothing, just some nothing.”
    Mma Ramotswe looked sympathetic. “There have always been men like that, Mma. Fortunately, there are fewer of them than there used to be. But there are still some, and this Putumelo must be one of them.”
    Mma Makutsi now asked what made these men behave in such a way. Were they like that because they had been badly treated by a woman at some point? Or were they like that because … She tried to think of another explanation, but could not. How could anybody ignore the other half of humanity? And did they behave like that to their wives? she asked Mma Ramotswe.Phuti had met Mma Putumelo when she had come into the furniture store to test the sofa, so she knew that Mr. Putumelo was married. Did the poor woman have to put up with being ignored in that astonishingly rude manner? What would it be like to sit down for breakfast with a man who