(See Cover)
The room on the second floor of Teheran's Majlis (Parliament) building was as bare as a hermit's cell. It was furnished with a sagging cot, a few dingy chairs, a foot locker, and a small table on which rested a half-used box of Kleenex, a bottle of ink, and a key ring with three keys. The only spot of color in the drab room was supplied by a bright blue enamel chamberpot under the cot.
In this austere room last week lived an austere old man consumed by illness and by strange...