While men like Firouz easily found their place under Iran’s army-led monarchy, Hedayat did not. An army officer who was educated in czarist Russia and fastidious about his dress, Firouz carried a trim mustache and tortoiseshell eyeglasses, and read Le Figaro daily. In Tehran, Firouz had known Hedayat, the son of aristocrats who moved in the same courtly and literary circles. Days before, Hedayat had sealed up the apartment on Rue Championnet where he was staying and opened up the oven’s gas valve before lying down on the kitchen floor. It was that of Sadeq Hedayat, who is today eulogized as Iran’s great literary modernist. In April 1951, the police in Paris called on my great-grandfather, Prince Mohamed-Hussein Firouz, to identify a dead body.
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