[Crowbob]

This reminds me of an acquaintance whose stash disappeared back in the days when laws were laws, men were men and all the kids were above average. In place of the plants was a local detective's calling card.

No note, no nothing. Just the card.

Panic attack ensued, of course. A day or three later, after discussing with friends, the acquaintance goes to the cop shop and asks to see the detective. Tells him the story. With a very stern face the detective puts his handcuffs on the table and just starts laughing uncontrollably.

A few days later pot plants reappear minus a bud or two. It remains a mystery in the annals of crime.