Friday, August 18, 2023

Sixty-Second Solutions 2




The paper football skipped across the lunchroom table, landing squarely in Samantha Spade’s applesauce.

She looked up, and there stood Andy D’Brillo, the meanest kid in Sallami Middle School’s sixth-grade class.

“Hey, new kid,” Andy sneered. “Word around the playground is that you’re some kind of detective. Well, solve that!”.

Using her fork, Samantha fished out the folded paper and shook off the applesauce. As she carefully unfolded it, she invited Andy to sit down. The only other people at the table were Billy Archer and Flo Mason, the two friends that Samantha had made during her first few two months at Sallami.

It was hard being the new kid, but Samantha was used to it. Her father traveled around the country installing computer systems and always brought Samantha along. Even if it meant starting at a new school in January, which is what had happened to Samantha last month.

She looked out the cafeteria window at the swirling snow flurries and sighed. Her dad’s last job had been in sunny California.

Andy was right about one thing: Samantha was a detective. She loved mysteries, a habit she’d picked up from her father. Her bookshelf at home was stuffed with mystery stories, and she enjoyed applying principles of reason and deduction to real life. She was so successful that she built a reputation in every town she visited as a capable, amateur sleuth. History was repeating itself in Sallami.

The piece of paper in front of her was a puzzler, indeed.

“What the heck does it mean?” asked Archer, staring down at the handwritten note, written inside a red Valentine’s heart. It said:

dear andy,

neat composition. Every Word is typed. how many errors?

First Letter over.


After studying the message for exactly one minute, Samantha said, “Interesting. Where’d you find this, Andy?”

“It was on my books when I brought my lunch tray back to the table,” he said. “I thought maybe it was from the gym teacher, since my mom typed my report about “Soccer Stars Around the World” before I read it to the gym class yesterday, but I don’t think old Mrs. Grubbtongue would send me a Valentine folded up like a paper football, do you?”

“Probably not,” Samantha said. “But it’s safe to assume that whoever put the Valentine on your books is someone in this lunch room, correct?”

Archer, Flo, and Andy looked at each other and shrugged. Sure, that made sense.

“So we’ve narrowed our list of suspects from 355, the approximate number of students in this school, to about 60. True?”

“Uh, yeah, whatever you say,” Andy replied.

“Now, whoever sent you this Valentine knew about your typed gym paper. So we can narrow our list of suspects further by eliminating everybody except the people in this lunchroom who are also in your gym class.”

Andy looked around the cafeteria. “That still leaves us with about…twenty kids, including you, Flo and Archer,” he said.

“Correct,” said Samantha, “which gives me an idea for gym class tomorrow.”

Andy rolled his eyes. Gym was going to be terrible for the next week: Tomorrow, they started a unit on dancing, where students selected partners and learned dance steps from around the world. It was universally loathed, especially by boys.

Samantha continued: “Our culprit might try to pass you another Valentine tomorrow. He or she knows you’ll be on your guard, especially during lunch. Maybe they’ll try to slip the Valentine onto your books during gym class, so we should keep a sharp lookout.

“Archer, I want you to pick me for your dance partner tomorrow. We’ll keep an eye on the west side of the gym.” Samantha looked straight at Flo. “And Andy, I want you to pick Flo as your partner. You two can watch the east side. If anybody acts suspiciously or tries to pass a second Valentine, one of us will spot it.”

Samantha handed the soggy Valentine back to Andy, picked up her spoon and started to eat.

“That’s it?” Andy stood up. “That’s the best you can do? What kind of detective are you, anyway?”

“Detective work is 90 percent perspiration and 10 percent inspiration,” Samantha said, smirking. “You didn’t expect me to solve the case just by staring at that note for sixty seconds, did you?”

“Well, I…I…” he stammered.

“Look, are you in or not?” Samantha asked.

“Okay, okay, I’ll play along with your silly game and pick Flo as my partner. But if we don’t find who sent the note, I’m gonna write the Cheerios company and have ‘em revoke your detective license!” He stalked off, muttering under his breath, “Sheesh, some detective!”

Archer stood up. “Looks like you blew that one, Sam. I’m going for an ice cream sandwich. Need anything?”

The two girls said no. After Archer headed for the freezer, Samantha turned to Flo.

“Well, at least you’ll get to dance with Andy tomorrow, which was the reason you wrote him that note in the first place,” she said. “Under that tough guy exterior, he seems like a nice boy.”

Flo’s face flushed. “Me? But I didn’t …! Oh, forget it, I can’t lie to you. Yeah, I sent the Valentine. I like Andy, but I’m too shy to ask him to dance. Part of me hoped he would break the code, and part of me didn’t. I can’t believe that you solved that in sixty seconds. It took me hours to write last night!”

She patted Samantha’s hand. “Thanks for not letting on, Sam, and for tricking him into dancing with me. You’re a real friend!”


HOW DID SAMANTHA KNOW THAT THE NOTE WAS WRITTEN BY FLO?

SEE BELOW FOR THE SOLUTION.

* * * * * 

SOLUTION: Samantha noticed that the only capitalized words in the letter were Every, Word, First and Letter. So she read only the first letter of every word (including the salutation) and discovered this message: “Dance with me – Flo.”

The following day, Andy and Flo danced together in gym class, and she told him the truth. Later that week, they danced again at the school’s Valentine’s Day party. He soon stopped being the meanest kid in school.









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