Sam Vimes is on a well-deserved holiday. But for the commander of the City Watch, a vacation in the country is anything but relaxing. The balls, the teas, the muck - not to mention all that fresh air and birdsong - are more than a bit taxing on a cynical city-born and -bred copper. Yet a policeman will find a crime anywhere if he decides to look hard enough, and it’s not long before a body is discovered, and Sam - out of his jurisdiction, out of his element, and out of bacon sandwiches (thanks to his well-meaning wife) - must rely on his instincts, guile, and street smarts to see justice done.
Snuff, Terry Pratchett
Discworld Number 39, Ankh-Morpork City Watch Number 8 and Sam Vimes goes on a holiday. As unlikely a scenario as you could possibly expect, especially when the holiday is in the country - balls, teas, nights that are quiet, except for the birds screaming. None of which is particularly conducive to relaxation for a man who regards relaxation as somewhat akin to death. Luckily he manages to find a body, a case, anything to distract him from Lady Sybill's imposed ban on bacon sandwiches. And that birdsong.
We head into some very dark subject matter with SNUFF - racism and prejudice in particular, as the victim is a young goblin girl and it seems that a lot of people regard them as property, which Sam is having none of. Of course, young Sam is on hand to provide plenty of distraction - this time in the form of an obsession with poo.
Having now only two more books to mention in this series I'm struck, yet again, about how much we've lost. I like to pretend to myself that Sam, young Sam and Sybill are out there, somewhere in the Discworld universe, rubbing along together, living their best possible lives.