My mum was a teacher in Sheffield, UK, after attending University there. One day she’d been for drinks after work, and missed the last bus home, so decided to hitchhike, as had no other means other than walking miles and miles in the cold. A guy pulled over and offered her a lift. My mum, well educated, well spoken southerner, made friendly conversation with the guy all the way back. He dropped her off, and his parting words were “don’t ever accept lifts from a stranger again”. He hadn’t seemed particularly off until that moment, but his demeanour had changed in an instant, leaving her feeling very uncomfortable. She hurried off and into her home. Some months later, she saw his face on the news.. turns out it was Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper.