Alise O'Brien
Nancy Drew — well, actually Mildred Wirt Benson (the first of many Carolyn Keenes) — would have gone gaga over Tim Rohan's house. Her sleuthing instincts would have immediately drawn her down the staircase built from an antique black walnut railing, spindles and newel post collected from Fellenz Antiques' trove of architectural remnants. Then she would slip into the downstairs den Mr. Rohan built when he and his family — his wife, Ginny, and sons Teddy and Jack — moved in 16 years ago.
The room is paneled in ... doors.
Aha. All the better to fool a sleuth.
"We took old doors from a fancy apartment building, and we had them hand-stripped, assembled and lined up around the room," he explains. "We created a second staircase to the lower level and did built-in bookcases for television and stereos. We removed the dropped ceiling, put in a new plaster ceiling, added sconces and carpeted it to match the main floor." On one side of the staircase, he added bookcases which he promptly packed with antique porcelains, rare books, an old clock, an abacus, a Chinese rice box and shells.
Although the doors were doctored to look like fine paneling, many still serve their original purpose. It might take the tenacious Ms. Drew a few minutes to uncover the room's four hidden doorways. Each leads to a different room, including the exercise area, guest room suite, closet and brand-new bar.
Back upstairs, Ms. Drew could also have opted for a second stairway. Wearing her pearls, favorite twinset, pleated skirt and sturdy saddle shoes, she'd step lightly down the stairs to face two 1850 spoon-back chairs upholstered in a dark blue chenille set in front of a wall of mirrors. While the mystery queen might think the mirrors were meant to check for a wayward strand of hair or to distract a would-be felon, the truth is, Mr. Rohan used them so you wouldn't see something else. "You descend this staircase into a wall of mirrors that showcases the paneling because we couldn't put one section next to the other, because they are not exactly the same," he says. "People would notice it."
To the left of the staircase is another bookcase packed with treasures.
But it's not just any ol' bookcase.
Oh sure, it's filled with the kind of 100-year-old leather-bound editions and antique Chinese porcelains found all over Mr. Rohan's house — and on the bookshelves of many of his clients. But if you look carefully near the bottom, you'll see a cat hole — for the resident feline, Lucy, to slip through. And if you push with the force of Atlas, the bookcase creaks back and morphs into a door, which opens into a storage area.
To the right of the stairs is Mr. Rohan's latest creation: the remake of a basic basement storage area into a library bar.
First there is the library — or office — portion of the equation. A classic take on the cubicle, it has shelves of old books, a countertop of Silestone and an oversized bust of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. "I loved his wooly beard," Mr. Rohan says. "He just fits in there."
Then, a few steps beyond you find the bar, which in another time would have worked well as a speakeasy. The walls consist of panels, just like those in the den on the other side of the hidden door.
"It is not exactly the same format, but it is very close," Mr. Rohan says. "It took me 18 months to gather all the materials for this room. Most of it is from Fellenz, but some of it is from Henderson's on Cherokee." The bar, with its curved countertops and backsplash, all made of Michelangelo marble, has two tiers: The upper level is for serving people, and the lower is designed for the barkeep mixing the drinks. Behind the bar are yet more panels, which conceal the stemware, a standard-size refrigerator, a wine refrigerator and a microwave.
The floor is marquetry limestone. Above the bar is a flat-screen TV on a swing hinge "so you can watch your portfolio go down 35 percent," Mr. Rohan grouses. The bar stools are upholstered in the same paisley print found in the den, on the other side of yet one more hidden door.
"It is a cozy little place," he says. "It's kinda like a little city bar. When my friends come over, this is the magnet. They all come in here because it starts here with drinks, and then nobody wants to leave."
Ms. Drew would share the sentiment.
