In Fifty-Four Pigs, Philipp Schott introduces readers to Dr. Peter Bannerman — veterinarian by profession, amateur sleuth by inclination — and sets him loose in the snowy hinterlands of Manitoba, in a small Icelandic-Canadian town called New Selfoss. When a friend’s pig barn explodes, killing all fifty-four pigs and one human, Bannerman finds himself drawn into a mystery that is as much about loyalty and place as it is about crime.

What makes this debut intriguing is the collision of two worlds: the everyday rhythms of a vet’s life (from ailing animals to loyal canine sidekicks) and the sudden eruption of violence in a quiet community. Bannerman is not the typical detective; he’s meticulous, logical to a fault, and sometimes socially awkward — traits that give the narrative a peculiar charm. His dog, Pippin, is nearly a partner in investigation, and when skirted edges of sleuthing meet routine vet visits, the novel matures into something more than a cozy mystery. Schott’s setting is a strength. The cold, the rural back roads, the small-town dynamics — they’re vivid and honed with authenticity (the author is a practising veterinarian himself). The Icelandic heritage of the town, the social fabric of local acquaintances, the long Manitoba winters: all these weave together to ground the story in a place you can almost feel under your boots.

And yet, this isn't simply a comfortable puzzle. The plot pulses with threat and stakes beyond a barn fire. Bannerman’s investigation opens doors to crime that lurks beneath the surface, forcing him to step out from the safe margins of his clinic and confront danger. The tonal shift — from friendly vet visits to full-blown detective pressure — is handled well, though some readers might find the pacing uneven. The methods are methodical, the uncovering slow-burn, and the payoff less explosive than some crime readers expect. Characters are another strong point. Bannerman’s quirks, his precision-obsessed personality, his devotion to his practice and his dog — these make him memorable. His wife, Laura, and his police-officer brother-in-law bring human texture and tension to his journey. If the cast isn’t large, it’s knitted tightly into the locale, which suits the tone: small community, big secrets.

If there’s a caveat, it’s this: for sometime readers of traditional “whodunit” mysteries, the tempo may feel gentler and the style less high-octane. The book takes its time building the world and characters rather than relentlessly chasing body counts. It also flirts with cozy-mystery territory in setting and tone, even if the subject matter occasionally leans darker.