It was a resplendent Saturday morn in the quaint hamlet of Oakville, a locale renowned for its superior confections. The town's preeminent patisserie, Sweet Delights, was abuzz with anticipation. Today marked the commencement of the annual Muffin Mastery competition, where only the most discerning bakers would vie for the coveted title of Supreme Muffin Artisan.

Madame Daisy, the proprietress of Sweet Delights and a woman of impeccable taste, arrived at the crack of dawn to prepare her establishment. Upon unlocking the ornate front entrance, she was immediately struck by the conspicuous absence of the usual ambrosial aroma. Rushing to her immaculate kitchen with uncharacteristic haste, she emitted an unladylike gasp. The exquisite tray of her signature blueberry muffins, painstakingly crafted the previous evening, had vanished without a trace!

Madame Daisy, maintaining her composure as befitting a woman of her station, summoned Detective Samuel Sleuth, the town's most esteemed investigator. He arrived post-haste, brandishing his leather-bound notebook with an air of superiority.

"Pray, enlighten me as to the particulars of this most vexing situation," he intoned, his voice dripping with condescension.

Madame Daisy, her voice quavering ever so slightly, elucidated, "I meticulously prepared precisely one hundred of my world-renowned blueberry muffins yestereve for today's prestigious competition. I left them here to achieve the perfect temperature. Upon my return this morning, they had mysteriously absconded!"

Detective Sleuth surveyed the kitchen with a critical eye, finding no evidence of forced entry. The windows remained securely fastened, and the rear entrance was still impenetrable. "I presume no other individual possesses a key to your esteemed establishment?" he inquired, his tone implying the answer should be obvious.

Madame Daisy shook her head emphatically. "Only myself and my apprentice, young Thomas, have been entrusted with such responsibility. However, Thomas has been in my employ for years and is above reproach."

At that precise moment, Thomas sauntered in, his face a mask of feigned ignorance. "What seems to be the commotion?" he asked, affecting an air of nonchalance.

Madame Daisy apprised him of the dire situation. Thomas's eyes widened in an exaggerated display of shock. "Heavens above! Those were destined for the competition!"

Detective Sleuth fixed Thomas with a penetrating gaze. "And where, pray tell, were you during the witching hours of last night?"

Thomas replied with an air of smug satisfaction, "I was attending the cinema with my paramour. We indulged in the latest superhero spectacle."

The detective nodded, jotting notes in his book with a flourish. He then turned to Madame Daisy, "Might there be an individual who would stoop so low as to sabotage this illustrious event?"

Madame Daisy pondered for a moment before responding. "Well, there's always Mr. Grump from that inferior bakery across town. He's long harbored an unseemly jealousy of our superior confections. And then there's Lisa, a former employee whom I was forced to dismiss last month due to her repeated culinary catastrophes."

Their tête-à-tête was interrupted by the arrival of Officer Peter, who strode in with an air of self-importance. "I couldn't help but overhear talk of missing muffins," he declared. "I was on patrol last night and observed something rather peculiar. At the stroke of midnight, I noticed illumination emanating from this very establishment. I found it rather odd, but assumed someone was burning the midnight oil, as it were."

Detective Sleuth raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Most intriguing. Madame Daisy, did you perchance leave any lights burning upon your departure?"

Madame Daisy shook her head emphatically. "Certainly not. I always ensure everything is in perfect order before taking my leave."

As the detective continued his meticulous examination of the premises, he noticed some minute crumbs near the back entrance. His keen eye also caught a small piece of blue fabric snagged on a protruding nail in the door frame.

Just then, a young girl entered the bakery with her mother, whimpering pitifully. "Mummy, my tummy is most disagreeable," she complained.

The mother looked mortified. "My sincerest apologies," she said to Madame Daisy. "I'm afraid Lily overindulged in blueberry muffins last night. Our neighbor bestowed upon us an entire batch, claiming they were surplus from some grand baking endeavor."

Detective Sleuth's eyes gleamed with the light of revelation. He had unraveled this most perplexing mystery. 

But dear reader, have you deduced the culprit's identity? Tell us!