It was not a nice smile.
Symmington got up. He went over to the writing desk. He took a checkbook from his pocket and wrote out a check.
He blotted it carefully and then came back. He held it out to Megan.
"You're grown up now," he said.
"I can understand that you may feel you want to buy something rather special in the way of clothes and all that.
I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't pay attention. But here's a check."
Megan looked at it, then she said,
"Thank you.
That will do to go on with."
She turned and went out of the room.
Symmington stared after her and at the closed door, then he turned around and as I saw his face I made a quick uncontrolled movement forward.
It was checked in the most extraordinary fashion.
The big bush that I had noticed by the wall stopped being a bush.
Superintendent Nash's arms went around me and Superintendent Nash's voice just breathed in my ear:
"Quiet, Burton.
For God's sake."
Then, with infinite caution he beat a retreat, his arm impelling me to accompany him.
Around the side of the house he straightened himself and wiped his forehead.
"Of course," he said.
"You would have to butt in!"
"That girl isn't safe," I said urgently.
"You saw his face?
We've got to get her out of here."
Nash took a firm grip of my arm.
"Now, look here, Mr. Burton, you've got to listen."
Well, I listened.
I didn't like it but I gave in.
But I insisted on being on the spot and I swore to obey orders implicitly.
So that is how I came with Nash and Parkins into the house by the back door, which was already unlocked.
And I waited with Nash on the upstairs landing behind the velvet curtain masking the window alcove until the clocks in the house struck two, and Symmington's door opened and he went across the landing and into Megan's room.
I did not stir or make a move for I knew that Sergeant Parkins was inside masked by the opening door, and I knew that Parkins was a good man and knew his job, and I knew that I couldn't have trusted myself to keep quiet and not break out.
And waiting there, with my heart thudding, I saw Symmington come out with Megan in his arms and carry her downstairs, with Nash and myself a discreet distance behind him.
He carried her through to the kitchen and he had just arranged her comfortably with her head in the gas oven and had turned on the gas when Nash and I came through the kitchen door and switched on the light.
And that was the end of Richard Symmington. He collapsed. Even while I was hauling Megan out and turning off the gas I saw the collapse.
He didn't even try to fight.
He knew he'd played and lost.
Upstairs I sat by Megan's bed waiting for her to come around and occasionally cursing Nash.
"How do you know she's all right?
It was too big a risk."
Nash was very soothing.
"Just a soporific in the milk she always had by her bed.
Nothing more.
It stands to reason, he couldn't risk her being poisoned. As far as he's concerned the whole business is closed with Miss Griffith's arrest.
He can't afford to have any mysterious death.
No violence, no poison.
But if a rather unhappy type of girl broods over her mother's suicide, and finally goes and puts her head in the gas oven - well, people just say that she was never quite normal and the shock of her mother's death finished her."
I said, watching Megan,
"She's a long time coming around."
"You heard what Dr. Griffith said?
Heart and pulse quite all right - she'll just sleep and wake naturally.