Chapter 32
And now, fifty-five years later, there are detailed articles, subreddits, social media threads, videos, and even entire websites dedicated to the topic.
Diving deeper, Naomi learns that it’s not just Abbey Road that holds clues, but Sgt.
Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band as well.
Naomi studies an image of the cover shot, which features the four members of the Beatles in colorful band outfits.
Behind the quartet is a crowd, made up of various cut-outs and images of celebrities and other notable faces, like Marilyn Monroe and Edgar Allan Poe.
Red flowers in front of the group spell out BEATLES.
According to some fans, though, the cover includes a treasure trove of clues from the band, hinting that Paul is in fact dead.
A fansite’s blog post breaks it down, claiming that the black color of Paul’s instrument represents death, while the wood represents a coffin.
Then, there is the fact that Paul is facing straight, while the others are angled toward him, almost like they’re propping him up—like a corpse.
Finally, there are the flowers: Red hyacinths aka the mythological flower for death, which are reminiscent of a memorial, inferring that the entire album cover could be symbolizing a burial ceremony…
Paul’s burial specifically, since the yellow hyacinths next to the red ones spell out the letter “P” when turned sideways.
Naomi laughs in astonishment. She knows it’s ridiculous to even consider whether it’s true or not, but the incredibly specific details make the theory hard to dismiss.
She also knows the more she digs online, the crazier and deeper the conspiracy will get, so instead she decides to call someone who she trusts. Someone level-headed and logical.
“Naomi?” Joel answers. “Everything alright?”
“All good,” she says, her face flushing as she thinks of their conversation earlier this morning.
She pitches her voice higher than usual, feigning innocence.
“I just wanted to quickly ask you about something if that’s okay?
It’s nothing to do with… you know…” She doesn’t dare speak Harlow’s name to him.
“Okay…” She can hear the trepidation in his voice.
“So I’ve been doing what you said, taking a break and trying to forget about the case…
” She clears her throat, hoping he can’t tell she’s lying.
“And in my quest to distract myself I’ve stumbled across something really interesting.
Something you actually mentioned to me before, to do with the Beatles… ”
“Oh yeah?” He sounds intrigued.
“Yeah, you briefly mentioned the ‘Paul is dead’ theory a few days ago, and then today I met a street artist who truly subscribed to the conspiracy. That then prompted me to research it a bit more, which then made me think an article on it could be of interest to our readers. I already did some research but wanted to see if you think I’m missing anything and if it sounds like a good piece. ”
Her heart thumps wildly in her chest as she waits for him to respond, hoping he doesn’t see through her half-truths.
“Hmmm, that could work as a feature piece… what do you want to know?”
After exhaling a sigh of relief, Naomi explains everything she’s learned and pauses for Joel’s reaction.
“I’m impressed,” he says. “You got most of it.”
“What am I missing?”
“Okay, well at the end of ‘I Am the Walrus,’ you can hear ‘O, untimely death!’ from a broadcast of King Lear.”
“Interesting…” Naomi’s eyes widen, intrigued, as she quickly jots it down.
“If you think that’s good,” Joel continues, “you’ll have a great time with this one…
So it sounds like you’re aware of most of the clues from the front of the iconic Abbey Road album cover.
But did you also know that if you hold a butter knife to the back cover, you can see a reflection of a human skull? ”
Naomi’s head spins as a memory comes to her. One of her mom doing something with a butter knife and an album in the kitchen.
“Oh, and you can’t forget about ‘Strawberry Fields Forever,’ where at the end of it John Lennon mumbles ‘I buried Paul.’”
“Seriously?” Naomi laughs. “I can’t believe I never heard all this before.”
“Well, it’s just a conspiracy theory, obviously. He’s not actually dead…”
“Right, of course,” Naomi says, not one-hundred-percent certain anymore. “But say he was, are there any theories about the imposter? Like who they are—were?”
“Oh yeah, apparently some guy named Willy—no, Billy—something. Billy Shears, I think, although a lot of fans think Ringo is Billy, but I won’t get into that.”
Naomi freezes, sure that name means something to her. She furrows her brow, racking her brain. Joel continues to ramble, mentioning a look-alike contest and something about “A Day in the Life” and “With A Little Help From My Friends.”
She’s barely listening, though, her brain instead recalling Harlow’s lyrics. “Oh my god,” she says when it hits her.
“Crazy, right?” Joel replies, thinking she’s responding to him. “Anyway, I’ve gotta run, but let me know if you have any other questions while you write.”
She thanks him before hanging up, feeling like she’s in a daze.
Fueled by adrenaline, Naomi immediately reaches for her Harlow albums. She studies the onyx black cover of Apotheosis, embossed with layers of images that she previously overlooked, before pulling out the lyric booklet inside.
And there it is, right in front of her, under “No Way Back”:
Hey Billy, help me understand. How did you live with yourself, when it all got out of hand?
Was Harlow actually singing about Billy Shears, Paul McCartney’s rumored replacement, and not Bill Lever? As Naomi grapples with whether it’s just a coincidence or a bombshell discovery, her eyes land on the glossy Legacy vinyl cover, sitting upside-down on the floor next to Apotheosis.
In the artwork, Harlow is wearing a red jacket, the bright color in contrast with the dried-up, empty field in the background. But as Naomi looks closer, she sees that Harlow isn’t in just any field.
She’s standing in a dead strawberry field.