Story Skeleton—The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency

Story structure relates to the psychological appeal of narrative, that which engages readers and builds in them a sense of anticipation—a desire to know what happens next. Our ongoing exploration now delves into mysteries, illustrating yet again the universality of story structure, albeit from a different angle.

 

By Michelle Barker

A Different Kind of Mystery Novel

Alexander McCall Smith took the mystery world by storm with The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, reimagining the possibilities for a detective novel. Instead of the grit and sexy-lamp dames of The Big Sleep, the intricate puzzles of Agatha Christie, or the violence and suspense of Postmortem, McCall Smith chooses a warm, gentle tone and infuses the novel with a deep affection for Botswana—along with a lot of humor. His detective is a heavyset, dignified Motswana woman—no attitude, no tortured genius, no femme fatale. Just grace, decency, common sense, and a lot of bush tea.

Published in 1998, this novel focuses on its protagonist, Precious Ramotswe, and on life in Africa. The mysteries she solves involve mostly domestic and personal issues; the stakes are lower, but the emotional impact is high.

Typical to the genre, Mma Ramotswe cares deeply about her clients and mistrusts the police. Her investment in her work translates easily into reader investment in the outcome, and the juxtaposition of small-scale crimes with the culture of Botswana is immediately enchanting. McCall Smith grew up in Zimbabwe and taught at the University of Botswana, which is evident in his vivid and evocative descriptions of the country.

The novel is structured differently than a traditional mystery. Instead of a tightly wound plot with a single overarching case, it unfolds in a series of smaller unrelated mysteries, making it feel more like a collection of vignettes than a traditional whodunit. But McCall Smith has a plan. Mma Ramotswe’s narrative goal is not just to solve a crime (or series of crimes). It is to become a detective—which to her means to have the confidence to tackle a serious case and to be recognized as a competent practitioner of her vocation. The serious case in question is the disappearance of an eleven-year-old boy who might have been kidnapped by witch doctors. This case is woven throughout the book and its solution forms the novel’s climax.

Part of the strength of this novel is Mma Ramotswe herself and the female perspective on the hitherto largely male-centric world of detectives. The mysteries all involve variations on the theme of toxic masculinity and include a romantic subplot with Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni—a mechanic and Mma Ramotswe’s good friend, someone she visits regularly and occasionally consults for professional (and/or automotive) advice.

While the focus on gender dynamics is compelling, it’s also worth noting that the way these themes are framed—particularly the critique of men’s behavior—raises important questions about the author’s perspective (which we’ll explore shortly).

Plot Points

The Detective and Her Methods

The novel begins with the case of Happy Bapetsi, a woman with a successful career. Her father left the family when she was young, and she and her mother never heard from him again—until, lo and behold, he shows up at her door and proceeds to settle in, eating her food and expecting her to wait on him. Toxic Man #1 has entered the story.

Happy hires Mma Ramotswe because she suspects this man is not her father. In a demonstration of the detective’s methods, Mma Ramotswe goes to see the man wearing a nurse’s uniform and pretending Happy has been in an accident and needs a substantial amount of blood from a family member—so much that it might kill him. A real father would die for their child. But a pretend one? Case closed. She gives him five minutes to clear out.

Like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, Mma Ramotswe uses intuition, wisdom, and a deep understanding of human nature to solve crimes.

The novel then shifts into a protracted section of backstory—surprisingly long not just for a mystery but for any genre. The point is clear: to understand this detective and her methods, we need to know where she comes from and how she was raised. We need to know her code. But the author is making another point: Mma Ramotswe has been raised by a decent man and has an example that many girls in the world don’t get—a father who stays and devotes himself to raising his daughter.

Precious Ramotswe doesn’t have special training as a detective. What she has is life training and a strong sense of family. Her father, a mine worker in South Africa, shifts to raising cattle—and raising his daughter. After his wife is killed in an accident, a cousin comes to live with him and commits herself to Precious’ education as though Precious was her own child.

In Sunday school, Precious learns right from wrong and has her first encounter with inappropriate male behavior: a boy named Josiah who likes to flash her when the teacher isn’t looking. When Precious tells on him, she gets a lesson on how to deal with such boys: the Sunday school teacher smacks him on the head with her Bible. He never bothers her again.

When she is older, she goes to work for her cousin at the husband’s bus business and catches someone stealing, which plants the seed of her narrative goal to become a detective. But not quite yet. She meets and marries the musician Note Mokoti—despite her father’s warnings—and gets firsthand experience of just how toxic a man can be. He beats her to the point where she loses her baby, and then he leaves her. After that experience, she swears she will never marry again—a vow that will become important as the romantic subplot unfolds.

Behind the Narrative Goal: Can Women Be Detectives?

When Mma Ramotswe’s father dies of lung damage, he leaves her his huge herd of cattle, and by this point she knows exactly what to do with it: buy a house and start a detective agency. This is the inciting incident of the novel. In fact, she expresses this desire to her father when he’s on his deathbed, and though it seems like he might object to the idea, he dies before he can get the words out.

Mma Ramotswe’s experience at the bus business makes her realize she is interested in doing detective work, but it’s her toxic marriage to Note that forms her underlying reason for starting the agency. Her marriage teaches her about the dangers women face from predatory men, which then influences her strong sense of justice. The detective agency becomes a way for her to reclaim power, not just for herself but for other women as well. Her father’s death provides the means for turning this dream into a reality. She will be a detective who helps people get justice for the injustices they’ve experienced. In fact, she will be a detective who mostly helps women deal with toxic men.

But when she tells her lawyer she intends to open a detective agency, he wonders if a woman can even be a detective (which is perhaps what her father had also intended to ask). As if she was suggesting going to live on Mars.

Her response forms the foundation of her entire agency: “Women are the ones who know what’s going on. They are the ones with eyes. Have you not heard of Agatha Christie?” But the seed of self-doubt has been planted. Can she do this thing? Will people take her seriously? After all, there are no female detectives in Botswana. But she doesn’t back down from her goal.

The external plot of the novel contributes to her internal journey from uncertainty to confidence as a respected detective. This is her narrative goal: to prove—not just to others but also to herself—that she deserves to call herself a detective.

Despite the lawyer’s doubts, she buys a place on a busy street where people will see it, hires a secretary, and orders a copy of The Principles of Private Investigation, by Clovis Andersen. All she needs now is a client. But the self-doubt planted by the lawyer festers. What has she done? No one will come, and she’ll have to close at the end of the month.

But this is not what happens.

Case #1 Accepted

Mma Malatsi’s husband has gone missing.

The facts: 

• He has a good business, so he’s not running away from creditors.
• He just became a serious Christian, so his wife doesn’t think he’s run off with another woman.

But Mma Ramotswe is quite sure he has. She tracks down the Christian group and confronts the reverend who tells her the man is dead—disappeared during a river baptism. Mma Ramotswe goes to see the river: if the man was swept away, someone would have found the body. She now suspects something else. 

That night she returns to the river with one of her neighbor’s dogs—and a rifle. When a crocodile emerges from the water, as she expects, she shoots it and cuts open its belly. The contents of its stomach include jewelry, which she then confirms with Mma Malatsi belonged to her husband.

Smaller Domestic Cases Build Competence and Confidence

In the rising action of the book, a series of cases follow this one, including: 

• a wealthy and over-controlling father who is convinced his teenage daughter is out with boys and wants Mma Ramotswe to follow her
• a woman who believes her husband stole a car and wants Mma Ramotswe to steal the car back from him and return it to its rightful owner
• a woman who’s convinced her husband is cheating on her
• a factory employee who makes false insurance claims to get money
• a set of twin Nigerian men who trade off on two medical jobs, but only one of whom has medical training

But these cases don’t merely function as vignettes. With each one, Mma Ramotse moves toward her narrative goal, gathering both external validation and internal reassurance that she has a knack for this work.

The Case of the Missing Boy

This is the central mystery in the novel and the true test of her skills. It’s more dangerous, more complex, and far more emotionally weighty than anything she’s dealt with before. This is Mma Ramotswe’s chance to prove herself as a detective.  

The Initial Puzzle

Early in the novel, we get the boy’s POV, so we know that one evening, on one of his meanders out in nature, he gets picked up by two men who offer to drive him home—but then don’t. “You can help us with something,” they say. “You can go home some other time.”

The boy realizes he’s made a grave mistake by getting in the car and tries to get away, but the men grab him, and that’s the last we hear from him.

Case Declined

Two months later, Mma Ramotswe receives a letter from a father whose son has gone missing. As a teacher, he can’t afford to pay her but asks her to keep her ears open for any news. The case has been in the newspapers. There were searches, the police were involved, but the boy disappeared without a trace. Mma Ramotswe and her secretary agree that if such an extensive search has already turned up nothing, there is little she’ll be able to do for this poor father. 

But the thoughts of the boy and his family haunt her, until she wonders if perhaps she’s not cut out for this job after all. It’s a moment of grave doubt for her, and an indication that her self-confidence is still not where it needs to be for her to feel like she has accomplished her goal. 

During a visit with Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, she mentions the letter. He’s convinced the boy is already dead, taken for witchcraft and killed for “medicine.” It’s a taboo subject, the thing people in Africa are most afraid of, including the police. Mma Ramotswe calls it Africa’s heart of darkness. 

He counsels her not to pursue the case. That night she awakens in the middle of a power outage and imagines she hears someone calling her name in the yard. Thoroughly spooked, she decides Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni is right. She will not accept this case.

Gathering Evidence

But the case reappears around midpoint in an unrelated car accident. When Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni is working on the car, he finds a small bag of muti, “medicine,” which includes a bone—possibly human. The car belongs to Charlie Gotso, one of the most influential men in the country. In other words, someone you don’t cross.  

Mma Ramotswe takes the bag to a doctor who confirms it is the finger bone of a child, but unlike Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, the doctor thinks the child might still be alive. It’s this flicker of hope that creates a point of no return for Mma Ramotswe. If there’s a possibility of saving this child, she must try to do it. But she will need Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni’s help. She invites him over for dinner to formulate a plan. 

They can’t involve the police. The police have no interest in dealing with a crime like this, especially if it involves someone like Charlie Gotso. Somehow, they’ll have to trick Charlie Gotso into giving them the information they need.

Laying a Trap

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni calls Charlie Gotso to tell him thieves broke into his car while it was in the garage. He also tells him nothing seems to be missing—and then he and Mma Ramotse wait. 

Sure enough, Charlie Gotso’s man shows up to check the car and says something is missing. As planned, Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni refers the man to Mma Ramotswe to help them recover the “lost” item.

The Final Puzzle Piece

By the time Mma Ramotswe has to face Charlie Gotso, she is already well known and respected in the community as a private detective. Indeed, at the President Hotel, she bumps into none other than the Malawian High Commissioner who recognizes her by name, and she wishes her father were still alive to see how she has achieved her goal. 

Or rather, almost achieved it. The real proof of her competence will only come when she solves the crime of the missing boy. 

She goes to see Charlie Gotso with the bag of muti. When she tells him she’s a private detective, his smile is clearly dismissive: “I saw a sign when I was driving past. A private detective agency for ladies, or something like that.”

Mma Ramotswe sets him straight. She has now worked not only for women but also for men—and in fact, for the wealthy and well-known Mr. Patel whose name has some currency in Gaborone.

But Charlie Gotso is not convinced. “You think you can tell men things?” 

Mma Ramotswe is up to the challenge. “Sometimes. It depends. Sometimes men are too proud to listen. We can’t tell that sort of man anything.” 

Gotso claims the bag of muti belongs to one of his men. Mma Ramotswe asks if he knows where she can get some muti like this and offers a trade: information on someone he knows, for the name of the witch doctor. She has successfully tricked him.

But she still has other cases to deal with, and for one of them she must cross the border into South Africa. The border guard looks at her passport.

“It says here, under occupation, that you are a detective,” he said in a surly tone. “How can a woman be a detective?”

This serves as a great touchstone for her. Once again, she uses Agatha Christie to skewer the doubter, but this time she is less affected by the question. She’s on a suspect’s tail, and if she can’t get through the border quickly, she’ll lose him. She compliments the border guard with a white lie and is waved through.

Climax and Resolution

In the climax of the case, Mma Ramotswe drives to the witch doctor’s house. He lives out in the middle of nowhere, but he’s not home. Mma Ramotswe speaks to his wife, pretending she wants to buy medicine, but she then tricks the wife by telling her the police are coming to arrest both her and her husband for killing “that boy, the one from Katsana.”

That’s how she finds out the boy is still alive. Mma Ramotswe takes the witch doctor’s wife on the four-hour trip to the cattle post where the boy is working. He is indeed alive, but terrified, and has clearly been beaten. The bone in Charlie Gotso’s bag did not come from this boy’s hand, but this is the boy who went missing months earlier. She ushers him into the car and drives away, leaving the witch doctor’s wife stranded at the cattle post.

Mma Ramotswe returns the boy home to his family, bringing what seemed like a hopeless situation to a happy resolution. This success marks the resolution to her character arc. It is the real proof of her competence as a detective.

Romantic Subplot

Subplots give a novel more depth and can often take the form of relationships. The one in this novel subtly upends expectations while still delivering an emotional payoff. It also creates a particularly good conflict because of Mma Ramotswe’s early experience with Note Mokoti. We already know she has made up her mind about men, so anyone who falls in love with her is bound to be disappointed. And most of the men Mma Ramotswe meets are in fact disappointing. But not Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni. 

The romantic subplot also serves to change up the pacing. McCall Smith risks giving the reader one vignette after another which, after a while, might feel flat. By weaving in a relationship arc, he changes the tone, atmosphere, and subject matter, thus alleviating any monotony in the structure.

There’s no meet-cute here because Mma Ramotswe and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni have been friends for years. Instead, this is the friends-to-lovers trope which grounds the romance in emotional safety, something Mma Ramotswe needs after her traumatic experience with Note. There’s an easy back and forth between her and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni; they’re comfortable around each other. They’re also both single, so there’s room for this relationship to develop. Except for one small problem: Mma Ramotswe has vowed she will never marry again. 

Her regular visits with Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni suddenly change at midpoint when he surprises her—and us—by proposing marriage. This shifts the emotional tone of the story. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni has never married. He is a solid, good man with a successful business and a strong moral code. But Mma Ramotswe rejects the proposal. After Note, she is soured on the idea of marriage—and she’s happy in her life. But she tells him he’s exactly the kind of man she would marry if she ever changed her mind. In fact, she would marry him. So—she says no, but she leaves the door open.

This answer devastates him, but he values Mma Ramotswe’s friendship and so doesn’t let it get in the way. A factory owner also wants her to marry him, but she turns him down as well: “I do not want a husband,” she says. “I am finished with husbands for good.” As the number one lady detective in the country, she’s too busy to be married. Including a competing suitor emphasizes the point that Mma Ramotswe’s decision not to marry is a deliberate, empowered choice.

But typical for a romance arc, Mma Ramotswe and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni are thrown together in an external crisis: the case of the missing boy. The key clue comes through a car he’s working on. If she’s going to track down this boy, she’ll need his help. Working together on the case allows them to reaffirm their bond under pressure, which is crucial in romance arcs—love deepens through action, not just talk.

The final test that brings them together is the tiny white van. After driving eight hours round-trip on dusty roads, the van is sputtering and Mma Ramotswe worries it might not be salvageable. But as Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni says, “Anything can be fixed.” 

Turns out, he doesn’t just mean cars. After he repairs the van, they sit on the veranda in the dark, and he musters the courage to blurt out another marriage proposal.

This time, Mma Ramotswe doesn’t hesitate. Here is the happily-ever-after resolution. The romance arc is complete, and McCall Smith has managed the subplot in such a way that it enhances the main mystery plot rather than pulling attention away from it.

The Cozy Mystery Genre

A cozy mystery is a subgenre that’s all about charm, wit, and murder—but without the gore. The sleuth is usually an amateur detective, often female (think librarian, retiree) and usually not a cop or a private investigator. She is smart, curious (maybe nosy), and well liked in the small town where she lives. The setting itself is also important. Everyone knows each other; it’s a safe, comforting place.

There is a murder or crime, but it happens offstage and is not described in graphic detail. Rather than focusing on the brutality of the event, the spotlight is on the mystery. The tone is lighthearted and quirky and often includes subplots such as romance, friendship, or personal growth. Agatha Christie's Miss Marple and the Flavia de Luce series by Alan Bradley (in which the mysteries are solved by a precocious eleven-year-old) are good examples of cozy mysteries.

There are many classic cozy mystery tropes that readers will expect to encounter. The amateur sleuth often runs a business on the side (an inn, a café) and might have an animal sidekick that helps solve the crime. The town they live in is full of gossips, and the local cop is a grump who tells the sleuth to mind her own business. There are usually buried secrets, lots of food, a slow-burn romance, and a ton of red herrings.

For the most part, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency has a lighthearted and cozy tone and there is a romantic subplot. But beneath that is the more serious theme of how men treat women. Mma Ramotswe encounters cases involving infidelity and men taking advantage of women, and she handles them with sharp wit and deep moral conviction. But the novel doesn’t come across as a heavy-handed feminist critique. There are “bad women” hanging around in the bars too, just waiting to steal someone’s husband. The challenge to traditional gender roles is more subtle, but it does the job of highlighting the resilience of women in a society where they face systemic inequality.

A Strong Sense of Place

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency dedicates a significant portion of its narrative to Botswana’s landscape, customs, and social issues. The country itself shapes the way the mysteries unfold, proving yet again the power of a well-chosen setting. The fear and practice of witchcraft, the sound of the lions in the Kalahari, snakes (!), the Go Go Handsome Man’s Bar (which is maybe the best name for a bar ever), the mines in South Africa—it’s rich, immersive, and irresistible.

This novel is a masterclass in how to make setting work for you. In McCall Smith’s hands, it becomes integral but not overpowering. The details are woven into the scenes in ways that create depth but don’t stop the story. The author’s love of Botswana permeates the entire book.

The Thin Line Between Appreciation and Appropriation

Much has been written about the fact that McCall Smith is a white Scotsman writing in the voice of a Motswana woman. As a white reader, I was under the impression that the author had written lovingly about a culture he knows well. Botswana and Mma Ramotswe are the very things that have made this series so popular. 

However, several serious critiques have emerged about the series being, in the words of theologian Dr. Musa Dube, “just the same old colonial story of one more white man writing about Africa and getting famous for it.” Indeed, some readers find it cringe-worthy on one hand and offensive on the other. As author and doctoral researcher Betty Knight puts it, “Like all the other titles in this series, [it] is teeming with Black race tropes and colonial myths about Africa.” Critics also claim that his treatment of toxic masculinity is nothing more than a white man’s critique of African men. Again from Betty Knight: “The use of Black voices allows racist views to be casually shared, without McCall Smith himself having to use his own voice.”

These charges must be taken seriously, and they raise an important question about what authors can and should write about, and what they can’t and should not. 

Appropriation is a slippery topic when it comes to fiction. Critiques that point to McCall Smith not being a woman and therefore not having the authority to write from a woman’s point of view miss the point of the debate. Of course, authors can write characters who are different from themselves: that’s essential to fiction. The question is how they do it: with what accountability, what research, and whose voices they center in the process. 

Writing across lines of culture, race, or gender carries added responsibility, especially when the author comes from a historically dominant or colonizing group. Is it okay do it? Some still say no. It is one thing to borrow another person’s shoes; quite another to assume you’ve walked their road.

In Conclusion

Alexander McCall Smith found an untapped audience when he reimagined the detective novel, making it as much about character, culture, and philosophy as it is about solving mysteries. He has published twenty-five novels in the series, many of which have been adapted for radio and television. The author hit on a winning combination of small, everyday cases—often humorous or heartwarming—balanced by one or two more significant cases that touch on darker themes like corruption, abuse, or serious crime, along with a subplot that deals with more personal subjects. It is Botswana, along with Mma Ramotswe’s wisdom, kindness, and intuition, that make his work stand out in the genre. But ironically, that is also what makes these novels controversial.

---

Michelle Barker is an award-winning author and poet. She is the co-author of two craft books: Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling and Story Skeleton: The Classics. Her fiction, non-fiction, and poetry have appeared in literary reviews worldwide. She has published three YA novels (one fantasy and two historical fiction), a historical picture book, and a chapbook of poetry. Michelle holds a BA in English literature (UBC) and an MFA in creative writing (UBC). Many of the writers she’s worked with have gone on to win publishing contracts and honours for their work. Michelle lives and writes in Vancouver, Canada.