Solve-it-yourself mystery

Sheriff Charles “Chunky” Jones was studying a crossword puzzle when retired teacher Angela Potts marched into his office. Without looking up, he said, “What’s an eight-letter word for ‘pitiful’?” “Incompetent,” she said. “That’s eleven letters.” “Forget the puzzle,” she snapped. “I’m saying you’re incompetent, for not fixing the potholes on my street. How many times have I complained—”

“Hold on, Ms. Potts. I’m the sheriff, not the mayor. It’s him you need to—”

“Pathetic,” a voice said.

Both of them turned to see Judy Whitmore, a dean at the local community college, standing in the open doorway. She looked frazzled.

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” she said. “An eight-letter word for ‘pitiful’ is ‘pathetic.’ And that’s a good description of what happened last night.”

“Last night?” Angela said. “At the school festival.” Moments later, seated and calmed down, Judy filled them in. At a gala the previous night at the college, half the attendees fell ill from stomach distress. It was finally determined that the punch— a mixture of cranberry juice and ginger ale—was the cause, and several volunteers reported seeing a student in the kitchen area just before the event. There were no descriptions, but…

“I do have something that might help,” Judy said, handing a folded sheet of paper to the sheriff. “This was in my inbox this morning.”

It was a short poem with a strange signature. Sheriff Jones read it aloud:

To find the Bruce Who spiked the juice, Look into who’s Been paying OOS. First Big City Deward West, of Florida (Call me Dew.)

“First Big City?” he said. “What does that mean? And who’s Deward West?”

Judy shook her head. “No idea.”

“What about this ‘OOS’?” “Out-of-state,” Angela said. “Apparently the prankster pays out-of-state tuition.” Judy produced another sheet. “I’ve already put together a list of all our students from outside the state. And believe it or not, we have four Bruces.” Angela joined the sheriff at his desk, and both studied the list. Bruce Mccain from Dothan, Alabama; Bruce Anderson from Mobile, Alabama; Bruce Wells from Jonesboro, Arkansas; and Bruce Jarman from Memphis. There were none, unfortunately, from Florida.

“You think the guilty party wrote this to tease us?” the sheriff asked. “Or was it someone snitching on him to make sure he got caught?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Judy said.

He sighed. “Well, even if I could narrow this down from the poem, Ms. Whitmore, it probably isn’t a criminal matter, anyway. It was wrong and stupid, yes, but even the note tipping us off suggests it was a prank. If nobody was seriously hurt, the college should handle—”

“Normally we would,” she said, scratching at her wrist anxiously. “But there were dignitaries present and they want someone arrested. I’m told the Governor and First Lady were throwing up all night.”

“Well, if those four are the suspects,” Angela said, “I know who spiked the punch.” “What?”

“It was Bruce Anderson,” she said with a knowing smile. “Easy to see.”

The sheriff, gaping at her, said, “How do you know?”

Q: What gave the culprit away? A: Turn to pg 51