John Watson wasn't a particularly violent man, but he knew his way around a gun. He knew that there were times when one needed to be sure of one's aim and ability to pull the trigger. So? When he'd realized that he'd be staying in the City, he'd found a range and he'd started a regular practice regime. More than once, he'd been glad of his decision to keep up his skill.
He was already there when Zoe arrived, one target peppered with bullet-holes centered around the bullseye. John Watson was a good shot.
He glanced sideways when a neighbor arrived and did a double take. He knew her. It took him a moment to realize from where: the asylum. He'd met her right after he arrived.