Then They Came for Me_ A Family's Story of Love, Captivity, and Survival - Maziar Bahari [126]
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I was brought to see Rosewater a few minutes before eleven A.M. He told me that my brother-in-law, Mohammad, was waiting outside Evin with the deed to my mother’s apartment.
“Call him and say that you may not be released today,” Rosewater ordered.
“But why?” I asked weakly. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. We just need a signature, and we’re not sure when we can get it from that official.”
My heart sank. In Iran, many lives were spared and others were ended because of a final signature of an official. I wasn’t sure whether Rosewater was telling me the truth or if Mohammadzadeh had annulled my release out of spite.
“Inshallah, the official will be found today,” I told Rosewater.
“Inshallah,” Rosewater answered, as he handed me the phone to call Mohammad.
Mohammad said that he wasn’t going anywhere until I was freed. “I told Moloojoon that I’d come home with you, and she’s waiting for both of us,” he said. Mohammad, who’d gone through a much longer and harsher incarceration than I, knew how heartbreaking it would be for my mother to hear that I had to stay in prison even for one more day. As usual, his words were reassuring. “Don’t worry about anything,” he told me. “I’m sure you’ll be released today.”
“It’s a free country,” Rosewater said sarcastically. He’d been listening in on the call. “He can wait outside as long as he wants.”
I went back to my cell. After lunch, Rosewater called me to the interrogation room twice. Again he went through the list of names of people I was expected to spy on in London. Both times, I felt that there was someone else in the room, and at one point, I thought I heard the buzz of a camera recording our conversation. I’d used video cameras enough in my life to recognize the sound. The fact that I was being filmed gave me hope. I thought, They’re recording me for the last time before they release me, so they can prove that I’ve been cooperating with them.
Rosewater had told me that I shouldn’t talk about my release with my cellmates, but after I was called to the interrogation room for the second time that afternoon, they began to wonder what was going on.
“I don’t know what he wants from me,” I told them. “He keeps on asking me the same questions over and over again.” I wasn’t sure if they believed me or not, and at that point, I didn’t care. The only thing I was thinking about was my freedom, and joining Paola in London to witness the birth of our baby in nine days.
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“Mr. Bahari,” a guard called to me about two hours later. “Collect your stuff. You’re moving to another cell.”
“But why?” I asked. The guard didn’t answer. He led me out of the building, and after a long walk through Evin’s labyrinthine courtyards, we entered an office I’d never been to.
“Here’s your Mr. Bahari, sir,” the guard said. I recognized Rosewater’s slippers.
“Take your blindfold off,” ordered Rosewater. I didn’t understand. He was sitting right in front of me, the lights were on, and he was asking me to remove my blindfold. “We obtained the necessary signature,” Rosewater said. “Now take the blindfold off and sit down on the sofa.”
It was the first time I’d seen his face clearly since the day he’d arrested me. I’d mentally reviewed the details of his face during the many sessions when he’d beaten and humiliated me. When he’d slapped me on the back of my head, I had wondered about the size of his hands. When he’d screamed and insulted me and spit on my face, I had tried to remember the shape of his mouth. And in his moments of silence, I’d wondered about his gaze.
Now he was sitting right in front of me on a white plastic chair, one of many that were scattered around the courtyards of Evin, with his legs crossed. His light brown suit looked