For about as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to live somewhere with a hidden door, but I think this story about a Fifth Avenue apartment with a puzzle hunt built into it during a recent renovation by the architect Eric Clough has me thinking I’ve not been ambitious enough:

The finale involved, in part, removing decorative door knockers from two hallway panels, which fit together to make a crank, which in turn opened hidden panels in a credenza in the dining room, which displayed multiple keys and keyholes, which, when the correct ones were used, yielded drawers containing acrylic letters and a table-size cloth imprinted with the beginnings of a crossword puzzle, the answers to which led to one of the rectangular panels lining the tiny den, which concealed a chamfered magnetic cube, which could be used to open the 24 remaining panels, revealing, in large type, the poem written by Mr. Klinsky. (There is other stuff in there, too, but a more detailed explanation might drive a reader crazy.)

I wonder how many of New York’s wealthiest parents are going to be contacting Clough this week, demanding a similar feature for their kids? (And hey, even if they don’t want the puzzles they’ll probably call anyway—$300 per square foot for a Fifth Avenue apartment renovation sounds like a great deal for people in that tax bracket.)