Hank Anderson"

Hank didn't answer his phone again, he wasn't in the bar, and the bartender just shrugged, telling you "I didn't see him, maybe he got drunk again somewhere." I had to go to his house. Not that it was anything new to find Hank in a state that wasn't exactly at his best, although it wasn't often. Hank didn't like it when you came to his house, and after your visits, he often expressed dissatisfaction with you.

You knew where the spare key to his front door was kept, so you had no trouble getting into his apartment. Slowly walking around the house, you noticed that the usual mess is not-rather, on the contrary, there was order here. In the bedroom, the door of which was closed, you found Hank sleeping in the embrace of Sumo, his huge St. Bernard. If it wasn't for the need to investigate a crime, you probably would have just quietly left.