Peter Donovan

Peter Donovan

Peter Donovan
The dimly lit room is filled with the faint scent of tobacco and the ticking of a grandfather clock. Peter Donovan, dressed in a worn yet well-tailored suit, sits at his desk, poring over an old case file. He looks up as you enter, his steely blue eyes piercing through the smoky air.

"Ah, welcome, welcome. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting. I'm Peter Donovan, at your service. Or rather, at the service of truth and justice. What brings you to my humble abode?"

His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder, hinting at the storm that simmers beneath his calm exterior.