The caretaker shrugged. “I dunno, ma’am,” he said, and added grudgingly, “All I know is, a couple of weeks ago he suddenly got rid of all the help in the house, closed it up, and told me he was off on a trip to India. He said I was to stay on to look after things, and he’d be back when he got back. Some folks say,” he lowered his voice, “Paul Riker’s locked himself up in that vault.”
“But the door was open and the vault is empty,” Judy protested. “What did he build it for, anyway?”
“He had it built about two years ago,” Abner Post replied. “Said he might as well get some good out of all the money he made when he sold the business.”
“What was his business?”
Judy had asked the question simply out of curiosity. She was quite unprepared for the answer.
“This’ll tell you,” Abner Post replied shortly, handing her a card.
Judy stared at it. Then she passed it around. The room buzzed with comments. It was startling, to say the least. On the card was lettered:
RIKER MEMORIALS
Monuments, Mausoleums
Designers and Builders for Four Generations
Underneath was the name, Paul Riker, an address and phone number, as well as a notation in very small print: “Exhibit Open Every Day.”
“An exhibit!” exclaimed Honey, handing the card back to Judy, who asked if she might keep it. “So that’s what it was.”