by Ehsaneh Sadr
Leila shook her head. “No, we’ve only been recently reacquainted. And that’s when all our troubles started. Oh, God,” Leila gasped. “It was all my fault.” She looked at Sadegh as if beseeching him to grant a pardon that would lessen her blame.
“Leila,” Sadegh said gently but with real exasperation. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Leila looked up at the ceiling and blinked several times.
“You know, agha Sadegh, I was always aware of the sacrifices my mother made for me to make sure I had everything. So I really tried to be good. I never wanted to cause her any trouble. But recently . . . well, we had some political differences. You might not like to hear this, but I felt the government went too far in the election and that ordinary people had to be willing to make sacrifices for change.”
Sadegh tried not to let his irritation show. It was astounding how cleverly this propaganda had been spread by the enemy. Even now, almost half a year after the Iranian people had rallied behind their leaders and defeated the threat from outside, young people were still vulnerable to these arguments. Just a few weeks ago, after many months of calm, a group of infiltrators had tried to hijack the annual Student Day commemorations with offensive slogans like “Death to the dictator.” Ganjian and other Basijis had been called in to help control the crowds and remove the offenders before they managed to recruit others to their misguided cause.
“Anyway,” Leila continued, “over the summer I went to a few demonstrations. My mother didn’t know . . . I was staying at a friend’s house. But at the last one, I was taken in by the police. Actually, it’s a very strange coincidence, but it turned out that it was your cousin who tried to help me. It was her wedding night, and she was in bridal clothes, and they—she and her husband—hid me in their car. The Basijis had chased us into an alleyway, and I got separated from my friend. I’d given up any hope of escape, when they told me to get in. It was kind of her to risk so much for a stranger. I didn’t realize it was your cousin until later. I felt bad about her husband’s arrest on my account.”
Sadegh’s brows crowded together as he digested this. He remembered Ganjian telling him Ali had been taken in for hiding protestors in his car. Leila had been one of them? It was indeed a strange coincidence. And it was an inside-out feeling to know and even be related to rioters and demonstrators. Typically, Sadegh’s only interaction with such people was while making arrests.
Leila went on. “Anyway, that night, well, Mr. Heydari interrogated me. I didn’t know who he was, but when I told him my name and my mother’s name, he recognized us.”
Sadegh wondered whether Heydari had had the same inside-out experience. It must have been awkward to find an old friend among people you’ve arrested.
Aloud he asked, “What did he do?”
Leila paused before answering. “Well, he helped us . . . They only held me that one night before I was freed. Others weren’t so . . .”
Her voice trailed off, and Sadegh prompted her. “Yes?”
Leila gave him an ironic smile. “I was going to say lucky, but I don’t think I was lucky after all. Mr. Heydari, well, he’s not a good man.”
Sadegh felt piqued again. “Leila-khanoom, Heydari is a very good man who is fighting, just like me and my friends, against a very big evil. I’ve seen him be harsh, but it’s only because he cares so much about our people and country and religion that he gets angry with those who put us at risk. Don’t you see what dangerous times we are in?”
Leila shook her head and twisted a tissue in her hands. “No, it’s not that,” she whispered. “He wanted to marry me.”
This was so unexpected that Sadegh let out a disbelieving laugh.
“He wanted to make me marry him,” Leila repeated as she looked at him with serious, unblinking eyes. “And he didn’t care that I had no interest in marrying a man more than twice my age.”
Sadegh had trouble processing what Leila was saying. It was hard to imagine that small, severe man thinking about anything other than the security of the Islamic Republic and his beloved velayat.
“Leila, come on,” Sadegh chided. “You must have misunderstood.”
“He wanted a second wife,” Leila insisted again. “We tried to put him off gently. Maman-joon told him I was already engaged. He didn’t believe her and kept pushing, so she was trying desperately to find me a real fiancé. Eventually, he started hinting that if we didn’t accept his offer, he would go to the authorities and reveal my ID papers as fraudulent. He is a . . . an evil man, Sadegh. I could see he got pleasure out of our desperate struggle.”
Sadegh had a sudden thought. “This is why your mother was in such a rush to find you a husband?”
“Yes,” Leila confirmed. She said no more but simply looked at him with steady, familiar eyes. It was surprising, Sadegh thought for the first time, how much they looked like each other and their mother. As if their respective fathers had little part in their genetic makeup.
“Leila-khanoom,” Sadegh said softly. “It still seems to me that there must have been a misunderstanding.” Leila started shaking her head, and Sadegh spoke more forcefully. “Maybe he thought you would welcome such an arrangement. Maybe he thought this was a kindness and that you were in need of protection. Why didn’t you say something to me earlier?”
Leila puckered her lips and looked down before answering. “I’m not sure. I told Maman to tell you, but she didn’t want to bother you or cause problems between you and Heydari.”
A new concern flashed through Sadegh’s mind. “Does Heydari know? About us being related, I mean.”
Leila looked up. Not at him but at the kitchenette corner where the cuckoo clock hung. She shook her head and said, “Maman-joon was very . . .”
Leila paused and Sadegh tensed. All things considered, he would prefer to keep his private family drama away from and unknown to the Basij. There was a certain amount of prestige that came from being a Hojjati, from being in such a well-regarded family, and he didn’t want to sully his reputation with rumors of a potential scandal.
“. . . discreet,” Leila finished her sentence. “She didn’t want to cause any problems for you.”
Sadegh felt relieved and annoyed and ashamed all at once. It annoyed him that Leila and Ms. Tabibian assumed he might be embarrassed for people to know about them. And he was ashamed that they were at least partly right.
Sadegh’s cellphone rang. He was glad for the distraction.
“Allo? ”
“Sadegh-jaan, kojaee. Where are you?”
It was Sumayeh. And she didn’t sound pleased.
“Didn’t you get my message? I’m at Ms. Tabibian’s house.”
“Ms. Tabibian’s house? Why would you go there? And right after a fight with Maman-Mehri? Do you have any idea the state you left her in?”
“No, Sumayeh, it’s not like that.” Sadegh glanced briefly in Leila’s direction to see if she was listening and wondered how she might interpret his words. “There’s been an emergency. I’ll be home soon.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“She’s missing, Sumayeh-jaan. I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”
There was a silence.
“Kaari nadari? If you don’t need anything else, I need to go.” Sadegh said. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Fine. Just . . . real quick, do you have Mahdi’s matchbox fire truck?
“What?”
“He’s been crying about it since we got home. He said he put it in your briefcase.
“I don’t know, but I can’t look right now.”
“Okay,” Sumayeh sighed. “Just call me when you leave.”
“Chashm, azizam. Of course, my dear,” Sadegh promised.
Closing his phone, Sadegh addressed his sister. “I have to leave soon, but I want to help. And I still don’t understand what’s going on and where
Madaremoon”—Sadegh stumbled over the word for our mother—“has gone.”
Leila exhaled and drew her arms in and around herself as if willing her body to shrink.
“Heydari was threatening us,” she said. “And we didn’t know what to do. It looked to me like we didn’t have any options and I was going to end up married to that man. But then, something happened, and it seemed like maybe there was a way to get rid of him. You see, he left some papers here.”
Sadegh was surprised. It would be inappropriate for an unrelated male to visit two women at their home. “Heydari came here? To your house?”
Leila sighed. “Yes. Many times. He would show up unannounced late at night. Anyway, the papers he left were medical records that proved Heydari had mistreated a prisoner and that the government had covered up his cause of death by beating.”
Sadegh grimaced. The enemy was so clever in the lies it spread to undermine trust in the system. Sadegh wished the Basijis were a little less humble about advertising the many ways they served and protected the people.
Leila went on. “So I thought that maybe there was a way to use these papers to get him to leave us alone. Like tell him that if he doesn’t back off, we would make the records public or something.”
“This was your plan?” Sadegh scoffed. “Leila, all these accusations of abuse are lies spread by our enemies. I’ve had friends in the Basij and worked with them off and on for years now. If there was really abuse, I would have seen it. You must have misunderstood whatever you saw.”
Leila shook her head at him in disagreement, and Sadegh considered the possibility that she’d really found something that suggested foul play. “Even if you’re right,” he said, “and there was some unfortunate event, well, Heydari and his superiors would have had good reason for keeping it private. It’s a sensitive time right now, Leila. There are people actively working to overthrow our government and to throw it into the type of chaos we see in Iraq. If you make private documents like that public, you’d be working with the enemy. You could be taken in for treason.”
Sadegh had been getting more and more worked up as he spoke, so he was practically yelling by the end. Leila reacted by seeming to shrink even further into the cushions as she hung her head and began to shake with what Sadegh assumed were sobs. He felt bad for having berated her.
“Hala.” Sadegh spoke more softly. “Don’t cry. I think I understand. So your mother threatened Heydari, and he probably picked her up for questioning. This is definitely serious, Leila, and I’m disappointed that you would think of doing something like this over such a . . . misunderstanding. But . . . I know it was partly my fault for not helping you to begin with. And if what you’re saying about Heydari is right . . . well, it’s very strange behavior. I’ll do what I can to help.”
Leila wiped at her eyes with a tissue but continued to weep as she thanked him. “Mersi, agha Sadegh.”
“Vazifame. It’s the least I can do, Leila. Now, I need to go. But why don’t you give me the papers you got from Heydari.”
Leila took a deep breath and shook her head. “Maman-joon took them. See, Heydari didn’t pick her up. She went to see him herself yesterday afternoon. She just never came back.”
It was all starting to make sense. Aloud Sadegh said, “I see. So she went to threaten Heydari, and he kept her. I’m not at all surprised that—”
“No, she didn’t go to threaten him,” Leila interrupted. “Honestly, I don’t know exactly what she wanted to do. She was so angry with me when she found out about my stupid plans. She didn’t know anything about the papers or anything until yesterday.”
“You threatened Mr. Heydari yourself ?”
She shook her head. “No, I didn’t threaten him. Actually, the opposite. I was trying . . . I was hoping to find more documents like the first one. To see if there was a larger government cover-up. I called him and pretended that I, well, that I’d come around to the idea of marriage and that it was only my mother who was opposed. We made plans to see each other, but I was so nervous I could barely sleep the last few nights. And Maman-joon, she knew something was going on and finally got it out of me. I was stupid to tell her. She went to Heydari to try to clean up my mess and now she’s . . .” Leila’s voice trailed off.
Sadegh closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. “Let me see if I understand. You were purposely leading him to believe you changed your mind and wanted to marry him in order to steal documents to prove the government is involved in a cover-up?”
Sadegh opened his eyes and looked at Leila, who nodded.
“But . . . why? How would evidence of a larger government cover-up”—Sadegh gave the word a sarcastic lilt to indicate he didn’t believe there was any such cover-up—“help you discourage Heydari’s interest?”
Leila opened her mouth, but Sadegh made a connection before she could speak.
“You couldn’t have come up with this on your own!” he exploded. “Who are you working for? Leila, what is going on?”
Leila looked alarmed as she spoke in a rush. “No! It’s not like that. I just wanted him to leave us alone. I went to Ms. Rahimi for help, and she . . .”
“Ms. Rahimi?”
“The lawyer Maman-joon used to work for. You know her.”
Sadegh rubbed at his face. Yes. Of course he knew her. The first time he’d met Ms. Tabibian, she’d told him she worked for Ali’s sister and that she was trying to get information about his arrest. Sadegh had been glad he hadn’t told Ms. Tabibian anything, especially when he heard later that Ms. Rahimi had been arrested herself. Clearly the woman and her husband had been intimately involved in the post-election fitneh. The real pity was that she’d been let out at all.
“Yes, of course I know her. She put you up to this?”
“Just listen a moment,” Leila said. “See, I needed her help. I hoped the papers I’d found could be used to pressure Heydari, but I didn’t know how to use them or who to show them to. She thought it would be better to have a few more of these cases to be able to show it wasn’t just a single instance. She thought this way Heydari might lose power, so he couldn’t bully us anymore.”
Sadegh was furious. “So you were spying for her? My own sister is spying for a woman who is working to embarrass and overthrow the leaders I would sacrifice my life for?”
“No! It’s not like that,” Leila protested. “I just wanted him to leave me alone! I didn’t know what to do. And since when did I become your sister?” Leila looked at him defiantly. “Until an hour ago, you wanted nothing to do with me! Or even your own mother, who sacrificed so much. Ms. Rahimi is a good woman! At least she was willing to help.”
Sadegh took a deep breath to control his rage. He looked around at the animals in the moonlit forest, listening in on their conversation. He wanted to smash their faces. But he knew he needed to control his temper.
“Leila, I’m sorry.” Sadegh tried to sound sincere. “You’re right. It’s just . . . this is so much bigger than you. Maybe you’re too young to understand, but there are bad people in the world that are seeking to destroy Islam and our country and the supreme leader. Yes, perhaps our government makes mistakes, but what these people are advocating—overthrow of the government—will only lead to chaos and subjugation to the West. It’s possible that Ms. Rahimi and her husband and even some of the leaders of the Green Movement don’t understand that they are being used as American pawns. But they must be stopped, nonetheless. And it saddens me that they managed to use you as well. It’s my own fault, Leila. I should have been there for you. I’m here now and will try to help. But you have to be clear about who the enemy is. If you choose to continue working with people like Ms. Rahimi, there is nothing I can do for you.”
Leila said nothing.
“Leila, tell me honestly. Was our mother involved in this . . . plan?” Sadegh asked, afraid of the answer.
“No,” Leila insist
ed. “She was livid when she found out what I’d done.”
“Okay, good. Now, you said she took the documents back to Mr. Heydari. That was the only copy, right?”
Leila looked at him steadily. “Ms. Rahimi made a copy in her office.”
Sadegh sighed. “Leila,” he said aloud. “It’s going to be harder for me to help if something actually gets leaked. Can you get that copy back? And make sure there aren’t any more?”
“How is this going to help Maman-joon?” Leila demanded. “Don’t you understand? She went to see Heydari yesterday and never came back. He’s done something to her. I called him last night and he wouldn’t tell me anything. He laughed at me and told me to call when I was ready to be serious.” Leila looked close to tears again.
Despite his anger, Sadegh felt a flush of disgust at Heydari’s reported behavior. “Look, I’ll deal with that,” he said. “My guess is that he kept her for questioning, so there’s nothing to be so worried about. But I need you to get those papers back. I can’t do anything for you if something that is intended to be private gets into the wrong hands. You understand?”
Leila nodded.
“Okay.” Sadegh stood up. “I have to go.”
It occurred to him that, so long as Ms. Tabibian was still missing, Leila was a young woman, entirely alone.
“Would you like to come with me?” he asked. “You could stay with us until she’s found.”
“No,” Leila shook her head. “This is my home. I want to be here in case she tries to get in touch.”
Sadegh wondered whether he should offer to stay with her. But he needed to get back to Sumayeh. There was only so much he could do.
“Okay, well, I have to go. Be in touch as soon as you get the documents or if you hear from her. Oh, and give me your cellphone number.”
Leila recited her number, and he entered it into his phone.