Colonel Mustard or Professor Plum?

Thursday morning I awoke with a startle, my sister was leaning over my head asking me if I had taken her comforter. As I came out of my deep precious sleep and could actually think coherently about what she was saying, I assured her that I hadn't taken it. There was panic in her voice as her worst fear came to reality. Granny took it! If Granny took it, why, and why didn't she say anything about it? She's been spying! We've been suspicious about her spying on us because old Eagle Eye has dropped a few homemaking hints in the past. Hints are helpful, except for when you realize someone has lifted up your comforter to see if the sheet corners are tucked in "hospital style." "Laura, um, I forgot to tell you when you're, um, making your bed you need to lift up the mattress to tuck the sheets in the right way." To which Laura casually replied, "I don't tuck the sheets in, because I don't like my feet tucked in at night." My sister doesn't like to sweat under polyester blankets in the hundred degree heat either and that's why it's been on the floor. The missing comforter is just for looks. Out of consideration for Granny and her home, we both quickly realized when we moved in that we wouldn't be able to make many changes to our living spaces. Our personnel touches to the rooms have been very minimal. We have done what we can to make it look like we don't actually reside in the rooms. Thus the scratchy polyester comforter and matching pillows are normally put back on the bed every morning. However, life has become busier and the bed making less of a priority. I asked my sister where the blanket had been and she confirmed what I thought. It had been on the floor for the last few days. I deduced that Granny didn't like it there and found some other place for it....of course without mentioning it to either of us. (Allthough, I'm sure all the distant relatives have been informed of our delinquencies and probably know where the blanket is.) The pillows were left behind as evidence that a crime had been committed. When Granny finally left for her weekly Friday hair appointment and I had a few minutes alone in the house I scurried around to investigate where the comforter might be. I checked the laundry, linen closets and the chest in Granny's room. Unfortunately the chest was locked and of course I couldn't check her closet as that is also locked. (Her sequin dresses from Carnival Cruise vacations hang in there.) It's been four days and the crime has not been solved. The whole situation is un"comfortable." Why would an 86 year old who can barely make it from the sink to the stove with out the assistance of a walker come all the way up 18 stairs to steal a comforter? Sounds like a case for unsolved mysteries.