One of those times when you compose the next sentence before reading it.

The sentence before the next sentence:

Holed up in the White House over the weekend, with temperatures dropping and a major snowstorm on its way, Mr. Trump expressed concern about the killing to aides and allies.

The next sentence you compose in your head:

You mean Trump pitched a fit about the public reaction to the killing and how everybody else had to fix it because the reaction was bad for him.

The next sentence the NY Times wrote:

But his frustrations were more about the coverage of the events rather than the incident itself, according to people familiar with the dynamic.

Yeah no shit. Of course they were. They always are. Always. There is nothing in this world or any other that matters to Trump except how whatever it is affects him. Not one single thing.