Derrick Bird who left a trail of death, terror and injury in a corner of the English Lake District yesterday was by most accounts modest, unassuming and polite. He looked after his frail, elderly mother.
He turned into a killer.
Or did he. A close friend said he used to like to shoot animals in the woods and local farmers' fields.
I understand that killing animals might be a regrettable necessity, and something that someone has to do as quickly and clinically as possible. But to like it? Speaking as an animal myself, that makes me nervous.
And no, I don't think that tougher gun controls are the answer. Reverence for life will do me.