Many of us driving to the country on Holy Thursday to begin our Easter break listened with a sense of foreboding as the Abbeylara siege evolved. Those of us who live in the country could identify with the villagers being interviewed by radio stations about the life and times of John Carthy, the man at the centre of the story. He resembled many a young man living in rural Ireland: well liked, involved with local sport and an easygoing member of the community.

Nobody had a bad word to say about him and nobody knew of any personal problems. There must have been great surprise, then, to learn that he had suffered from depression. Indeed the story of John Carthy clearly shows that psychiatric disorder is no respecter of persons. It can afflict even the most laid-back and likeable of persons, but it is a part of life that is all too frequently concealed. Many assume there is a type of person who is prone to emotional disorder, perhaps somebody who is highly strung, or eccentric or a recluse. John Carthy was none of these - indeed his very ordinariness is what was so baffling. He was a normal, pleasant young man working for a living and doing the usual things that young men do - courting girls and meeting his friends. There are many John Carthys in Ireland, young men and women who suffer from depression but deal with it, receive treatment and get on with their lives.

Seldom do any come to the tragic end that John Carthy suffered. Violence, directed either at oneself or at others, is rare in those with depression - or any other psychiatric disorder - in spite of popular images to the contrary. Against that backdrop it is relevant to inquire if the gardai had to hand the knowledge that has since come into the public domain about this man.

Anybody wielding a gun must of course be brought under control. However, were the gardai aware that depressed people rarely injure others? Were they aware that when aggression or violence is brewing a uniformed show of force may escalate the situation? Why did gardai from the rapid reaction force take over from the local force who, with their personal knowledge of John Carthy, might have been in a better position to negotiate than outsiders whom he might perceive as threatening?

Why was a force of 60 necessary to surround the tiny cottage with its single inhabitant? How many shots were fired? Was he asked to drop his gun? Was a solicitor contacted on his behalf as has been mooted? Was there really no other way out?

These, and many more, are the questions that have raced through my mind and undoubtedly other minds over the past few days.

Rural Ireland is quite special in that the relationship between gardai and the public is one of mutual concern and genuine respect. Indeed, it is often the gardai who bring to medical attention those vulnerable people living alone and in need of help. They are the sounding board for identifying the community's problems, and without fail they bring, in the discharge of their work, a compassion and concern for the local people that is probably unique among European police forces. It would be a shame if this tragic event were to engender anger and mistrust between local communities and their gardai, either in Abbeylara or anywhere else. Easter is a time when communities come together and worship in very large numbers and with a great sense of belonging and celebration. The tolling of church bells on Holy Thursday night told an unfolding story of untimely and violent death in the village of Abbeylara.

The local people have since buried John Carthy; they have carried his coffin and laid him in the ground. They, too, are grieving with his sister and mother for the loss of this young life. They are perplexed and troubled and have many questions. These are crying out to be asked, and are deserving of answers.

To date there is uncertainty about the publication of the results of the internal Garda inquiry. Many people want to put their questions to an inquiry team but will be unable to do so if the only investigation is a private and internal one.

The gardai know they have the respect of the people of this State. Failure to publish their internal results would cast a shadow over the trust they have earned. Beyond that, however, a mechanism must be established whereby the pressing questions of John Carthy's friends and neighbours can be voiced and clarified.

An independent public inquiry is the forum best suited to achieving the answers. If this does not take place rumours will multiply and truth will be the victim. Only when the findings of such an inquiry are made public can we ensure that this tragedy will never be replicated.

Only then can the family finally begin the process of healthy grieving. Only then can the people of Abbeylara lay John Carthy to rest.

Patricia Casey is professor of psychiatry at the Mater Hospital/UCD.