The late Richard Jameson was either a businessman pure and simple, or he had another life as the Mid-Ulster commander of the Ulster Volunteer Force. Whichever version you choose to believe, the fact is he had one of the biggest funerals seen in Northern Ireland for years.
While there was indeed a sizeable representation from the business community, there was also a large proportion of young men with tight haircuts, some of them wearing the leather-jacket and white-shirt combination associated with paramilitaries. Their ranks stretched as far as the eye could see. If, as alleged by security sources, Mr Jameson was in the UVF, then virtually the entire organisation must have turned out to mourn him.
We hoped we had left all this behind in Northern Ireland, but once again there has been the familiar flood of death notices in the Belfast Telegraph, the moving sight of family members weeping behind the cortege, and, above all, the fear of retaliation. For a man reputed to be a leading paramilitary, Mr Jameson picked a very vulnerable spot to make his home. Driving down the country road towards the isolated clump of bungalows several miles outside Portadown, one realises with a start that this was also the last drive Mr Jameson took before being shot dead on Monday night.
The ambush must have been a cinch - the wide open spaces and variety of access roads were ideal for a getaway. However, paramilitaries have long arms, and those who carried out the killing, or their associates, may well feel the hand of vengeance on their shoulder before too long. Indeed, speculation about the likely victim has already begun in some quarters.
Retaliation would plunge the peace process into crisis. The Loyalist Volunteer Force denial of the killing has been greeted with considerable scepticism. There is also a fair amount of cynicism about the fact that the LVF is, up to now, the only paramilitary organisation to have engaged in an act of decommissioning.
Groups of men took it in turns yesterday to carry the Jameson coffin over a distance of about a mile and a half from his home before placing it in a funeral car. It must have been a dark day for those loyalist leaders who have sought to turn their followers away from violence and on to the political road.
The rain drove down, sharp as nails, the walk to the graveyard seemed interminable and, even for January, it was very cold. But the silent and sombre group pressed ahead.
The police kept a discreet distance. One coffin-bearer wore an equally discreet UVF tie. Richard Jameson would be buried and then, perhaps, a fateful decision taken on what to do next.
Tartaraghan Parish Church is a beautiful stone structure in an idyllic pastoral setting. Here, the Rev David Hilliard reiterated the gospel message about turning the other cheek. In a more modern vein, he quoted the Russian writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn, who would certainly have an understanding of the primeval forces at work here.
"If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds," Solzhenitsyn wrote, "and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"
It was instructive to compare the Jameson funeral with that of the assassinated LVF leader, Billy Wright, two years ago. The Wright mourners could not hide the shock on their faces at having lost their guiding light. The Jameson mourners did not look shocked or lost, the best description of their mood would be grim determination. Where this determination leads some of them is another story: the Jameson family have appealed for calm, but is everybody listening?