by Ehsaneh Sadr
At that moment, Heydari reentered the room, pushing a blindfolded young man before him. He held a small paring knife in his right hand.
The young man looked familiar, but his presence in this context was so alien and unexpected that Azar’s mind struggled against accepting it even as she identified the bright-blue Nike shoes she had purchased two weeks ago.
This was no young man.
This was a child.
This was her son.
Azar’s instinct was to scream and shout and fight against the impossible scene of ten-year-old Hossein standing next to this evil man. But she had just enough presence of mind to hold herself in check so as not to scare her son any further. What sort of nightmare was this? She’d never heard of the Islamic Republic using children in this way.
Azar spoke in a low voice. “What are you doing with my son? Why have you brought him here? He’s a child!”
Heydari flicked an angry look at Azar and said “One sentence. That is all I ask of you. One lousy sentence.”
“Maman, is that you?” Hossein asked.
“Yes, my love.” Azar answered, grateful that he couldn’t see her. “Don’t be frightened. This is just a mistake. Be brave, my boy.”
“Where’s my file?” Heydari demanded.
“I don’t have it! Sadegh Hojj— Oh my God! Please! No!”
Heydari had taken Hossein’s head in his hands and tilted it. He lifted the paring knife toward Hossein’s face, and as Azar begged for mercy, he sliced off Hossein’s right earlobe with one swift motion.
Hossein screamed and wriggled against Heydari, but Azar could barely hear him so loud was the bellow issuing from her own injured throat. She yanked against her restraints. The woman in black grabbed her arms and pulled them up painfully behind her, forcing Azar to be still.
Over the screams of mother and child, Heydari yelled. “One sentence! That’s all I ask. What kind of mother are you to let your own child suffer in order to save yourself ? Stop your lying and admit you took the file! I ask you again: Where is it?”
“Sadegh Hojjati has it!” Azar screamed. “Please! I’m telling the truth. I admit everything. Yes! I took it, but I gave it to Mr. Hojjati. Please! Oh, God, I’m begging you. Don’t hurt my son! Don’t hurt him!”
Heydari looked suspiciously at Azar. Hossein was still screaming and struggling against his grasp.
“Who’s Mr. Hojjati?” Heydari demanded. “Is he with the Foundation?”
Azar tried to get the words out as quickly as possible. “He works with the Basij! Sadegh Hojjati. His cousin is married to my brother. I took the file from Ms. Tabibian. I admit it. Or actually, I took a copy. But I didn’t keep it. I wanted to get rid of it and put it in his briefcase. Or, rather, I asked my sister-in-law to do it for me. I wanted to return it to the authorities. But she just slipped it in there. He might not have even found it yet, but it’s there. Please! Ask him.”
Heydari pushed Hossein to the floor, where he curled into a tight ball in the corner and whimpered as he clutched his ear. Blood trickled through the cracks between his fingers and down his arm.
Heydari took a few steps toward Azar and stopped right in front of her.
“I don’t know any Sadegh Hojjati. What makes you say he works with me?”
“Please!” Azar pleaded. “Maybe he works with a different unit. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll find him for you. I swear to God I’m telling the truth. Just, please, my son has nothing to do with this. He—”
“Shut up!” Heydari snapped. He cocked his head at the woman in black. “Go see if anyone knows this Hojjati.”
The woman released Azar’s arms. She walked to the door, opened it, and leaned out the doorframe. Azar heard her call to someone. “Do you know a Sadegh Hojjati? No? Go see if anyone knows him. Mr. Heydari wants to talk to him. Hurry!”
Azar could hear footsteps going down the hall. The woman in black turned back into the room but left the door slightly open behind her.
“You said Ms. Tabibian gave you a copy?” Heydari asked. “I don’t care about a copy. Anyone could have doctored it. What I want is the original. Where is it?”
“I don’t know!” Azar insisted. “All I know is that I had a copy and I arranged for it to be put in Sadegh Hojjati’s briefcase. I don’t know anything more than that!”
You know this will be easy to verify,” Heydari said softly to Azar. “If you’re lying, it’s going to be bad for your son!”
“I’m begging you!” Azar cried. “You have to believe me. Just talk to Mr. Hojjati. Tell him to check his briefcase. You’ll see I’m telling the truth!”
Unless, Azar thought in a panic, Sarah had lied about what she’d actually done with the file.
Heydari looked toward Hossein. “Bring me a towel or something,” Heydari instructed the woman. “This kid is bleeding all over the place.”
The woman in black walked behind Azar and out of her field of vision to, Azar assumed, the bathroom. She returned with a roll of toilet paper. Azar wondered how clean it was and what the risk of infection would be to Hossein.
“Please,” she implored Heydari, “let me help him!”
Heydari calmly took the toilet paper from the woman in black and wrapped it around the bit of flesh that was still attached to his knife. He crumpled up the paper and handed it to the woman in black.
“Get rid of this,” he said.
The woman took the small package and walked toward the bathroom again.
“Please, no!” Azar couldn’t bear the thought of a piece of her son’s body being disposed of as if it were trash. “He needs to see a doctor! A doctor can reattach that.”
Heydari chuckled, “That’s funny. You want to reattach an earlobe? Ha!”
Heydari pulled off another longer section of toilet paper and shoved it into Hossein’s hand. “Here, hold this up to your ear to stop the bleeding. And stop your whining, kid! You better hope your mother is telling the truth, or the next piece that goes is going to be a lot more important than an earlobe! You hear me?”
Hossein held the paper to his ear as he slumped miserably against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes were still covered by the blindfold. If he was still crying, he did so silently.
“Please!” Azar begged again. “Let me help him.”
“You can help him as soon as I find out if you’re telling the truth,” Heydari answered.
Footsteps sounded from outside the door.
A male voice said “Befarmayeed. Go on in.”
The door pushed all the way open and Azar could see a guard ushering in two men. It was Sadegh Hojjati and a big bear of a man that Azar didn’t recognize.
Azar could see the surprise and discomfort in Heydari’s eyes as he swiveled his body to block the men’s view of Hossein on the floor. Would they stop him if they saw what he’d done?
“Ganjian,” Heydari addressed the man that Azar didn’t recognize with a tight smile and forced greeting. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”
As he spoke, the woman in black had swiftly taken up a position beside Hossein so that the boy was entirely hidden from view by her chador as Heydari moved forward to greet the men with handshakes and kisses.
Azar watched Sadegh take in the scene. She couldn’t read his expression and wondered if he recognized her. She wondered what he thought of what he was seeing. He couldn’t see her restraints under her chador or her bleeding boy behind the woman in black. But perhaps he wouldn’t be surprised anyway. Perhaps he’d seen many similar scenes before. Perhaps what happened in the interrogation centers of the Islamic Republic was far worse than Azar had ever imagined.
The man Heydari had referred to as Ganjian spoke first. “Sorry, we didn’t know you were in the middle of something. This is my colleague Sadegh Hojjati.”
“Ah, the famous Mr. Hojjati.” Heydari was smili
ng, but Azar sensed he was nervous.
“We’ve met before,” Sadegh said. He didn’t return Heydari’s smile. “Anyway, we had some questions and were waiting in your office, but they said you wanted to talk to us.”
“What perfect timing,” Heydari said. “I have some questions for you as well. But let’s go back to my office. It’s much more comfortable there.” Heydari held out his hand to usher the men out the doorway.
Azar decided to take a gamble. She had no way to know whether this would save her son or seal his fate but knew she had to act.
“Mr. Hojjati! Please! It’s me, Ali’s sister. Help me, please. This man is torturing my son! You can leave me here, but please, to ro khoda, to ro Imam Ali, take my boy!”
Sadegh paused and looked at her. Azar thought she saw shocked recognition in his green eyes.
Heydari continued to push the men out of the room.
“Ignore her, my friends,” Heydari said. “She’s crazy. Let’s go to my office so I can explain.”
Azar screamed, “Mr. Sadegh, take my boy. You don’t know who this man is. Please, oh God, please! Take my boy!”
Heydari closed the door firmly behind him as he joined the men outside the room. Azar continued to yell.
“Aghaye Hojjati! Please don’t leave my son, my Hossein, here! He’s going to kill us like he killed your moth—”
She was silenced by a slap to the face from the woman in black.
“You stupid woman!” she hissed at Azar. “You have no idea what you’ve done! Even I who have worked with this crazy man for three years don’t want to think about what he will do to you now!”
Azar hung her head and sobbed. She cursed herself. She cursed Ibrahim. How stupid they had been not to realize the extent of the dangers they faced. They’d been willing to risk imprisonment and other dangers for themselves, but never for their boys. Was this torture of children a new tool of the regime, or was Heydari acting without authorization?
“Oh, Hossein!” Azar cried. “Hossein, my boy, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Hossein piped up from the wall where he still sat. “It’s okay, Maman. I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore, Maman. Don’t cry!”
Her son’s brave words broke Azar’s heart further, but she would not deny his request and calmed her tears.
“Yes, my son. I’m sorry,” Azar apologized. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me be brave.”
As she calmed down, she realized she could hear Heydari, Ganjian, and Sadegh arguing in the hallway.
“I told you I have your file. Why do you still need to keep her?” Azar recognized the first voice as Mr. Sadegh’s.
Heydari answered. He sounded angry. “I have more to question her about. And I don’t need to explain myself to you!”
“I have an idea,” the third man—Ganjian—seemed to be trying to strike a compromise. “Why don’t I take her and keep her at my station. Then whoever needs to can come question her there.”
A glimmer of hope began to warm itself in Azar’s chest. Was it possible they might get away from this man?
“No!” Heydari answered. “She’s my prisoner. She isn’t going anywhere until I am finished with her.”
“And the boy? What did he do?” Sadegh demanded.
Azar’s heart leaped again. They had seen Hossein despite Heydari and the woman’s attempts to hide him.
“Ganjian, you need to teach your friend some respect for his superiors!” Heydari shouted.
“You’re right Mr. Heydari. Sadegh, calm down,” Ganjian reprimanded his companion. “But I’m curious too. Why is the boy here? He’s too young for this.”
“I just wanted to scare his mother a little,” Heydari explained. “She wasn’t being straight with me.”
“Na dige, come on Heydari,” Ganjian chided. “It’s going too far to bring a bigonah, innocent, kid into it.”
“If you knew what this woman had been up to, you wouldn’t say that. I tell you she has been in direct contact with foreigners and has been trying to collect secret government documents to pass on to them. Sometimes sacrifices need to be made. You know that.”
“Okay.” It was Ganjian again. “Let’s do this. If you need to keep the woman, fine. But let us take the boy and return him to his family. Okay? Can we all agree?”
There was a silence.
Finally, Sadegh answered. “Fine. But since we’re here, I have a couple of questions for her myself. It won’t take long.”
“No!” Heydari objected. “I’m at a sensitive point in the interrogation. And I’m not finished with her!”
“Aghaye Heydari, kootah biya.” That was Ganjian again. “Give us a break here. Let’s give Sadegh five minutes to ask his questions and then we’re out of here, okay?”
“I’m telling you this woman has obviously had training in resisting interrogation. She’s a master of deceit!” Heydari’s voice was on edge.
“Ahh, don’t worry so much,” Ganjian said. “Five minutes and we’re gone.”
The door to the room opened and Heydari entered, followed by Ganjian and then Sadegh. Ganjian walked directly to Hossein and sat on the floor beside him.
“Salam, amoo! ” he said. “Hey kiddo, how are you?”
Hossein said nothing but shrunk away.
“Hey, don’t be afraid,” Ganjian tried to reassure Hossein. “I’m going to take you away from here, okay?”
“No!” Hossein cried defiantly. “I don’t want to leave my mother!”
Ganjian swallowed. “You’re a brave little guy, I can tell. And if your mother tells me to let you stay here, I will, okay? But I think she wants me to take you to visit your grandma. What do you think about that?”
Ganjian looked meaningfully at Azar, and Azar spoke up. “Yes, Hossein-jaan. My brave, strong boy. I need you to go with him, okay? Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. And don’t be afraid. He’s going to take you home. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“Okay, big guy, you heard your mother,” Ganjian said. “Take my hand and let’s get up together. Whoa, what’s going on with that ear?”
Ganjian pulled Hossein’s hand away from his head and saw the bloody ear missing it’s lower quarter. Azar watched his eyes grow hard with anger and felt gratitude and relief that her son would be safe with this man.
Ganjian led Hossein, still blindfolded, out the door and called to the guard. “Agha Mustafa, get an ice cream for this little guy.” Then, presumably to Hossein, Ganjian said. “Sit here for just a minute, and we’ll go, okay? Be a good boy.”
Ganjian returned to the room. Sadegh had picked up the chair that was still lying on the floor where Heydari had thrown it. He set it in front of Azar and sat down. Azar thought Sadegh looked nervous but also angry and determined. Heydari and the woman in black stood right behind Sadegh. Ganjian stood behind them, leaning against the door. He still looked angry over what had been done to Hossein.
“Mrs. Rahimi,” Sadegh began. “I’m very sorry to see you here.”
Azar didn’t know how to respond and said nothing.
“I have a couple questions for you,” Sadegh said. “I understand you arranged to get some sensitive documents to me.” Azar looked at Sadegh closely, and he continued, this time enunciating every word as if it had particular meaning. “I spoke with Miss Leila this morning. It seems she knows nothing about all this.”
Azar caught on quickly. It was almost as if they had coordinated their stories to protect Leila. She nodded, “Yes, that’s right.”
“Wait a minute!” Heydari exploded. “What the hell were you doing talking to the girl? This is my investigation.”
“She’s my sister,” Sadegh answered without turning to the man. Heydari eyes widened briefly, but otherwise digested this new information without much of a physical response.
“So, Mrs. Rahimi,” Sadegh went on, “I un
derstand your secretary, my mother, God rest her soul, she gave you these documents. Do you have any idea why?”
“This is all highly inappropriate,” Heydari spoke up. “If you’re related to these people, then you definitely shouldn’t be involved in an investigation.”
Sadegh turned and looked at Heydari. “I understand you and my mother were old friends. Perhaps you shouldn’t be involved either.”
Azar watched Heydari’s jaw tighten as the two men stared each other down. Finally, Ganjian broke in, “That’s enough. Sadegh, ask your questions and let’s go.”
Sadegh turned back to Azar. “Ms. Tabibian died this morning. I have reason to believe the circumstances of her death were suspicious. Why did she give you these documents?”
Azar looked at Heydari. He didn’t actually perform a cut-throat gesture but his face clearly communicated his intent to cause harm if she said something he didn’t like.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s death,” Azar turned her gaze back to Sadegh. “But I don’t know why she gave me the documents. She didn’t say anything about her reasons. But maybe she had some . . . political reasons.”
“Are you sure?” Sadegh’s voice sounded disappointed.
Azar looked at Heydari again. His face had relaxed a bit and he gave a subtle nod. He was pleased by her answer. He didn’t want her to talk about his desire to marry Leila with his newfound brother. A brother with connections to the Basij.
“Ms. Rahimi, look at me,” Sadegh said. “You have nothing to fear. Just tell me honestly. Why did she give you the documents? And what do you know about her death? Earlier I heard you say something about someone killing my mother.”
Azar looked at Heydari again. She looked at the woman in black. And then she looked at the floor. She heard Hossein from the hallway. “Mmmm,” he said. “It tastes even better blindfolded.”
Azar was not even a little tempted to tell Sadegh what Heydari had implied about his role in Ms. Tabibian’s death or about his intent to pursue Leila. Her only goal was to get her son out of here safely and away from the madman before her.
She looked Sadegh in the eye as she answered. “I’m completely sure. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was just trying to get your attention.”