The Monument Murders by Rachel McLean, book 4 in the Dorset Crime series - Chapter 1

Shane Gisborne’s mum had told him that coming down here before the castle opened was trespassing. But Shane didn’t care, he’d done it often enough.

There was a spot down by the Globe he liked. Tucked in behind it, looking out to sea but nestled in the shelter of the massive concrete sphere. It was a good spot to squirrel yourself away and hide. To smoke weed. On Saturday he’d brought Lorelei, who he very much hoped was going to be his new girlfriend.

Today, he wasn’t with Lorelei. Today, Mum had talked him into bringing Flossie.

Flossie was Mum’s favourite child. A six-year-old Shitzu with short brown hair and a permanently dumb expression. She barely needed walking; just getting out of the house made her little legs move more than Shane’s did during a whole day at school.

He hissed at her as she dragged on the lead, not wanting to go any further. She stood in the middle of the path leading past Durlston Castle and towards the cliffs.

“Oi. Bloody dog. Come over here. Mum says you’ve got to do a shit.”

He wanted to keep close to the hedge so no one would see him. One of the nosey parkers working at the castle would probably stick their head out of a window, tell him to eff off.

This was public land, wasn’t it? It belonged to the town. Besides, he wouldn’t be long. Bring the dog down to the seafront, let her do her business on the grass. Mum had shoved a poo bag into his pocket, not that he’d use it. Eurgh.

Flossie yanked at the lead and he muttered at her.

“Stupid dog.”

She bared her teeth and growled at him.

“It’s not my fault. Take it up with Mum.”

The dog growled again, then turned towards the cliffs. She began to move, making for the edge of the path. At last.

He allowed her to pull him down towards the seafront. He glanced at his watch. Seven thirty. He had to get home and grab his rucksack soon, or he’d miss the bus. Hopefully Lorelei would be waiting at the bus stop.

The dog stopped. Shane carried on walking, his mind in the clouds. They were grey today, festering over the sea. He almost tripped over the dog, catching himself just as he reached her.

“What are you doing, Floss? Do a shit and then we can get back.”

The dog looked up at him. She looked away again, towards the Globe. She made a whiny, whimpery sound. It reminded him of the time she’d encountered his mate Egg, the guy from his Maths class who wasn’t really a mate, but who you kept on the right side of if you knew what you were doing. Egg had kicked poor Flossie when she’d got under his feet. She’d made that same noise then.

Shane knelt down and ruffled the fur between her ears. “What’s up, Floss? He’s not here, promise. I’m not letting him come round again.”

The dog started growling, a low rumble from the back of her throat. If Shane hadn’t been crouched on the floor right next to her, he wouldn’t have heard it. He tightened his grip on her fur.

“Floss, you’re scaring me. Stop it.”

He stood up and shook himself out, then gave the lead a yank.

“Come on, Floss. Have a shit and we’ll go home.”

He started to walk, but the dog didn’t move. The lead went taut and he pulled on it. “Flossie, come on. I’ve got to get to school.”

Shane was in year 11, GCSEs next summer. His mum kept nagging him to do more work, but he wasn’t keen. Besides, it wasn’t as if there were many jobs in Swanage. He could have the best exam results in the school. It wouldn’t help.

He yanked the lead again. “Come on. Flossie, now.”

She looked up at him, and then towards the Globe, her eyes wide.

He hissed through his teeth. Bringing the dog out before school was bad enough, being hauled out of bed and forced to come out in the cold. But this was something else. What the hell was she playing at?

He trudged back to the dog and crouched on the tarmac in front of her.

“Flossie, what are you being so weird for?”

She looked past him, towards the sea. She barked, just once. He clapped his hand over his ear.

“That was loud, Floss. Stop it!”

She barked again, three times. Shane stood and turned, following her gaze.

She wasn’t looking out to sea. She was looking at the Globe.

“What’s up, Flossie? What’s wrong with it?”

He’d brought her down here plenty of times before. She’d tried to take a leak at the base of the thing, but he’d stopped her. He didn’t want to sit down there with Lorelei if it smelt of dog piss.

“What is it, Floss?” he asked, squinting towards the Globe.

It was gloomy this morning and he couldn’t see much more than shadows around the concrete sphere. He approached it. The lead tightened again.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Flossie!”

He let go of the lead. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere.

The dog let out a bark, then turned and ran back up the hill.

“Floss!”

He clapped his hand to his forehead and watched as she sped away from him. He’d never catch her, even with those stubby legs of hers. He could only hope she’d head home and that Mum would have already left for work.

“Flossie! Wait in the front garden.”

He looked back at the Globe. Something had caught his eye.

“Is that a…?” Shane advanced towards the Globe, his footsteps slow.

No.

He was imagining things. Shouldn’t have smoked that hash last night.

He took a few more steps towards it.

This was no hallucination.

He could see a foot.

He edged around the structure, trying to find a better view without getting too close. There was a person up there, spreadeagled over the top of the Globe.

As he rounded it, the wind at his back, he saw blood pooling on the ground.

Shane swallowed, but kept going. Creeping around the Globe, staring up at the form that had been dumped over it. He blinked, his eyes stinging, his breath shallow.

He shuffled into the space between the Globe and the cliff behind, where the inscriptions were. The ones Lorelei thought were cool.

He stopped. He felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle, the hairs standing on end.

He retched.

He turned away from the Globe and vomited into the spot where he’d sat on Saturday, his breakfast spattering the ground.