The Velvet Drain

Arthur unrolled the blueprints for the 'Sanctuary,' a detached, glass-walled art studio he was building for his young wife at the far edge of the estate. "It’s a masterpiece of isolation," he boasted, tracing the single path leading to the cliffside structure. I studied the cross-section, my eyes narrowing at the foundation. It was a concrete slab far too thick for a single-story room, hiding a suspicious hollow chamber underneath. "The engineering is impressive," I lied, my finger resting on a heavy-duty drainage culvert connecting Arthur's private basement study to the studio's base. "But Arthur, if this is just for storm runoff, why does the spec sheet require the interior of the pipe to be lined with sound-dampening velvet?"