Where is zubeidat tsarnaev

Phillipos was convicted on charges of lying to federal agents investigating the bombing, and a jury found Tazhayakov guilty of obstructing justice.

Story highlights Dzhokhar Tsarnaev is on trial in Boston Marathon bombings His parents, who are divorced, have both moved to Russian republic of Dagestan His sisters and brother's widow are believed to be living in New Jersey.

A popular student, Tsarnaev attended Cambridge Rindge and Latin School and was captain of his high school wrestling team. More Videos Suspected Boston bomber: How they caught him Tsarnaev was known on campus for selling marijuana, according to court testimony.

He became a naturalized U. Federal agents say surveillance video captured him near the second blast site, where 8-year-old Martin Richards was killed. After the bombings, Tsarnaev returned to campus and stayed there until the FBI publicly identified him as a suspect. Tsarnaev texted a friend to come to his room and take whatever he wanted as he would not be coming back. Tamerlan Tsarnaev was killed, and Dzhokhar was discovered the next day, badly wounded, hiding in a boat. Photos: Boston bombings suspect: Tamerlan Tsarnaev.

Tamerlan Tsarnaev, one of the Boston Marathon bombing suspects, was the subject of an April photo essay that appeared in a graduate school magazine at Boston University. According to the article, he had hoped to become a naturalized American and make the U. Olympic boxing team. Authorities say an overnight shootout with police left him dead on April 19, Tsarnaev shows how he strengthens his ankles, according to the photo essay.

The photographer did not want to be named for this story. Though he had lived in the United States for five years, Tsarnaev said in the essay: "I don't have a single American friend. I don't understand them.

Tsarnaev works out. Tsarnaev stretches during boxing practice. Tsarnaev tapes up his hand. He won the New England Golden Gloves heavyweight division in Known for his flashy clothes and in-your-face self-confidence, Tamerlan aspired to join the U. After interviewing Tsarnaev and family members, the FBI said it "did not find any terrorism activity, domestic or foreign, and those results were provided to the foreign government.

The man, Don Larking, had been disabled by a gunshot wound decades earlier that caused him some loss of both mental acuity and physical strength. He had met Tamerlan after Zubeidat took a weekend job assisting his wife, a quadriplegic, in their West Newton apartment. Larking and Tamerlan, who met when Tamerlan visited his mother at work, took an immediate liking to one another and shared their views on conspiracy theory and American politics. But Larking found that Tamerlan had strong political views of his own.

As their relationship grew closer, Tamerlan confided in Larking his troubling secret about the voice inside his head. Tamerlan told him that he had been hearing the voice for some time, and that he had a theory of what might be afflicting him. Tamerlan thought someone might have done that to him. Weeks before Zubeidat took the job with the Larkings, the FBI concluded an investigation into both Tamerlan and Zubeidat, exploring the possibility that they were religious extremists with terrorist intent.

Russian authorities said they had secretly overheard a telephone conversation between the two of them in which jihad was mentioned, and they tipped off American investigators. But after the three-month investigation, the FBI put their names in a terrorism database and closed the case. Appearing ever more devout, Zubeidat continued in her spiritual mission. In her first months working at the Larkings, Zubeidat wore her hijab.

Then, she began praying five times a day on a small rug she laid out in a corner. Zubeidat was struggling with her marriage as well. His night terrors had returned and many nights he screamed into the darkness, making sleep all but impossible for anyone on the third floor on Norfolk Street. Photos of Zubeidat from this time show an angular woman, shrunken in her dark clothing, a far cry from the ebullient figure who once twirled about Chechen parties in a red dress, cigarette in hand.

In August , the Tsarnaevs filed for divorce on the grounds of an irretrievable breakdown of their marriage. With his dreams of a prosperous life in America shattered and his aspirations for his children in tatters, Anzor prepared to return to Dagestan. I have less than when I came here. On his return to Dagestan, Anzor bought an apartment and by early was working on setting up a store to sell sundry items or perfume. None of it was true.

With his father gone and both Zubeidat and Katie working long hours, Tamerlan had all but given up looking for a job and often found himself alone on Norfolk Street.

He spent hours cruising the internet for websites associated with Islamist militants in the Caucasus. On his frequent visits to the home of his Cambridge friend, Brendan Mess, Tamerlan often chided another Muslim there for drinking alcohol and for living with her partner out of wedlock.

He was just kind of there. On Sept. Teken, were found brutally murdered in the apartment, their throats slit and their bodies sprinkled with marijuana. Authorities suspected from the start that the murders were drug-related; they have now also come to suspect that Tamerlan might have been involved in the slaying.

Prosecutors, in a recent court filing, said that a friend of Tamerlan had implicated him even more directly, though they offered little detail about what his role or motive might have been.

Nothing else has been revealed to date, or turned up during the Globe examination of the case, to associate Tamerlan, at this time, with violent crime or drug dealers. It is a black hole in his biography. Shortly afterwards, he announced that he was going to Dagestan to visit family members. That left Jahar as the only child at home. As Tamerlan and the Tsarnaev parents were preoccupied with the upheaval in their lives, Jahar continued to do well on both academic and athletic fronts.

While each of the other team members who received awards were accompanied by a family member or friend, Jahar had neither. His coach, who had an assistant coach walk with Jahar up to the podium, was not surprised. During the three years that Jahar had wrestled, the coach said, not one of his family members had ever come to watch him compete.

Tamerlan arrived in Dagestan in January looking, as he told many, to immerse himself in his faith. What he found was that the southern Russian province where his mother was born was experiencing an Islamic revival.

Friday prayers drew crowds of worshippers that spilled out into the street from dozens of new mosques. The revival has had a violent side: The Islamist insurgency that failed in neighboring Chechnya has moved to Dagestan, where a jihadist underground stages deadly raids on police and the secular government they protect.

Police have responded, in some cases, according to human rights advocates, with summary executions of suspects. The clash of cultures is tangible in the frenetic capital, Makhachkala, where Tamerlan spent much of his time. Everyone knows someone, or knows of someone, who has been shot passing through these checkpoints on suspicion of being part of the underground.

Some of its members follow a strict interpretation of Islam, and believe in the establishment of an Islamic caliphate governed by sharia religious law that would span the Caucasus. They are sharply critical of US interventions in Muslim countries, believe the US government condones the burning of Korans, and have had run-ins with Russian authorities — but they do not openly espouse violence.

Tamerlan, they say, arrived with a lot of questions about Islam and wanted to learn how to better express his faith. Tamerlan spent a lot of time hanging with the Union of the Just members, praying with them and studying the Koran.

Also, playing soccer and fooling around. Some of his new friends have pictures of Tamerlan at a Caspian Sea beach, playfully buried in the sand, and attending a wedding. They gave him a second name, Muaz, after an early Islamic scholar, a name he would later use for his YouTube account. But if Tamerlan was hoping to fit in with Muslims in Dagestan, he did not succeed.

Part of it was, yet again, his curious appearance. He wore a long shirt of the type favored by Pakistanis, according to his friends there. He combed his hair with olive oil and darkened his eyes with kohl shadow, practices followed by devout Sunnis in some cultures, but not in Dagestan.

Local young Muslims wear track suits and T-shirts and are distinguishable only by their long beards. Speaking in English-inflected Russian, he would smile broadly and chat up strangers, neither of which are common acts on the streets of Dagestan.

He also made a show of giving money to beggars on the street, something rarely done by locals. Tamerlan also began praying at a mosque attended by Salafi Muslims, a strict, orthodox Sunni sect whose members, authorities believe, often aid the armed insurgency.

Investigators also maintain that Plotnikov and Tamerlan communicated via an Internet site for Muslims. This version of events has it that the bombings could have been prevented had US intelligence heeded warnings the Russians sent US authorities about Tamerlan in and Russian authorities have said that Tamerlan, possibly through Plotnikov, made contact in Dagestan with an alleged recruiter for the underground named Makhmud Mansur Nidal, who was killed in a firefight with security forces in May Plotnikov was killed in a counterterrorist raid in July, days before Tamerlan left Dagestan and returned to the United States.

But several observers have raised doubts about the FSB version. They say it would have been difficult, if not impossible, for Tamerlan to have met with members of the underground without drawing attention. And if the FSB already suspected Tamerlan of seeking such contacts, they would ordinarily have been watching him very closely, said Andrei Soldatov, a leading Russian analyst of the FSB.

Kartashov, the leader of the Union of the Just, was quoted in May suggesting that Tamerlan was seeking to make contact with the rebels. According to news reports at the time, Kartashov said he spent hours trying to disabuse Tamerlan of the notion that violence was the way to establish an Islamic state. Arrested earlier this year on charges of assaulting a police officer, Kartashov was not available to be interviewed.

Magomedov denied that Kartashov ever said he had to talk Tamerlan out of joining the rebels. The friends said they were never asked about Nidal or Plotnikov. The names never come up. On his return to Cambridge that summer, Tamerlan had visibly changed. His face was covered by a thick beard. Gone were the silver boots and trademark fur hat, replaced by dark clothing and a white prayer cap worn by Muslims.

His prayers in the corner of the Wai Kru gym, which once took minutes, now lasted up to half an hour. His visits to the gym were rare. In his place was a quite intense individual, one very focused on the heavy bag.

At home, he railed angrily about Muslims being killed overseas. When he talked on the phone to associates overseas, and even to friends and his brother in the apartment, he often spoke in Russian, far more than he ever had before.

When Katie asked why, Tamerlan said the people he was talking to did not speak English. Her husband did what he did. Even the Cambridge mosque, which had once provided Tamerlan solace, now seemed to be a source of agitation.

In November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, a guest imam said during prayers that it was all right to celebrate some secular holidays, such as Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July.

Tamerlan leapt to his feet and angrily declared that the imam was wrong. Several elders in the church sat down with Tamerlan after the service. Not long after that, Tamerlan had a similar outburst at the Al-Hoda market, a Middle Eastern grocery that specializes in halal meats, as prepared according to Muslim law.

I am an American. Larking, too, found his young friend changed in several ways on his return. He also pressed Larking to remove his wedding ring, saying that most Muslims did not wear gold, but Larking refused. The last time Larking and Tamerlan sat together in the rear of the mosque, Tamerlan once again mentioned the voices in his head. This time, as Larking recalled it, he seemed afraid.

Back home on Norfolk Street, things had gone quiet. Several months before Tamerlan left for Dagestan, Zubeidat announced that she too was going back to Russia to tend to a sick brother. When she left, Katie took over her job at the Larkings. Making matters worse, the Tsarnaevs were about to lose their home, their one point of stability in a rocky decade in America.

Herlihy, the landlady, decided she needed more rent for the place and told Tamerlan that he needed to move out by June. Their home, however, had long been emptied of the hopes and ambitions the family had brought with them.

Jahar, now attending UMass Dartmouth, was not around much. The heavy afternoon silence was broken only by calls from Katie, worried about her daughter during her long shifts at work. When Tamerlan came into the empty apartment there was only the computer screen to keep him company. This is the most important rule. He was just another face in the crowd near Copley Square on that unseasonably warm April day, cheering on the runners like everyone else, hanging with a college pal.

With classes canceled for Patriots Day, the UMass Dartmouth freshman and his best friend Steve had headed up to Boston to join the throng. They arrived too late to see the indomitable Kenyans sweep the top spots, but in plenty of time to help rally the pack down the home stretch, to munch on pizza, savor the sunshine and — as often with Jahar — smoke a joint. He had two essays due by noon the next day, but he was in no rush to get to that. But it was a facade. Jahar was that day no ordinary college boy but a young man in the midst of a troubling transformation.

The high school honor student and wrestling team captain from Cambridge was foundering in his studies and increasingly drawn to trouble. The money gave him the thrill of financial independence, and helped pay for indulgences previously out of reach — his love of designer shoes, trips to pricey New York City clubs, and other extras like Ciroc vodka and psychedelic drugs.

Jahar was also one to court danger, and even occasionally carried a gun to protect his stash. There was a brazenness about him, but also an undeniable charm.

He was the one friends relied on to sweet-talk campus police out of nailing them for drug use or other violations. He was on a downward trajectory at school, to be sure, but seemed nonchalant, or in denial, about it. Certainly, he lied about it. Jahar was to be the scholar. His parents had deemed him the brains of the family, destined to be the first to earn a US college diploma and become a high-earning professional.

His father, a Chechen immigrant who fixed cars for a living, had boasted to friends that Jahar was Ivy League material.

Yet despite his keen mind, Jahar could never deliver academically once he got to college. No longer part of a wrestling team and high school that had supported him in critical ways that his family, consumed with its own problems, never did — Jahar began to drift. He focused on being the unofficial leader of a small group of friends who shared his budding interest in global affairs, in thrill-seeking adventures, in getting high.

Among them, Jahar was known as his own man, a leader not a follower, as he was often cast after the world saw the photos of him loping after Tamerlan, as the brothers rounded the corner onto Boylston, backpacks on their shoulders. On college move-in day, September , Jahar arrived in a rush at the entrance of the Maple Ridge dorms, hours after most of his classmates, said Jason Rowe, his freshman roommate.

Jahar unpacked his belongings, which included a prized collection of sneakers that he organized beneath his bed. His choice of wall decorations seemed to capture the range of his undergraduate ambitions: A poster of bikini-clad women on a beach. An image of Albert Einstein.

He told his roommate he would be majoring in engineering, one of the most rigorous concentrations on campus. And, indeed, his lineup of five fall courses was fairly intense: principles of modern chemistry; pre-calculus; introduction to design; critical writing and reading; and elementary Spanish II, according to a school source who reviewed his academic record.

This state university in southeastern Massachusetts has been described as a place of opportunity for many first-generation college students, yet new arrivals often struggle to get adjusted.

Finding a comfortable place in the student body can also be challenging. It is a transient group: Half of the 7, undergraduates are commuters and one in four freshmen do not return after their first year. Still, Jahar soon found a social niche. He already had two close friends from his public high school, Cambridge Rindge and Latin, joining him: His best friend, Steve, a Muslim convert who was also close to the rest of the Tsarnaev family, and another close friend, Robel Phillipos.

Soon Jahar joined an intramural soccer group, made other acquaintances playing video games and watching TV, and posted jokes on a new Twitter account. Soon these college friends got to know a side of Jahar that many saw in high school: He was, they said, generous with favors and compassionate if you had a bad day.

Jahar, for example, often helped friends get good deals on car repairs. He, like many other friends who spoke to the Globe, asked to remain anonymous, or to be referred to by first name only, because they do not want their identities associated with the bombing and, after being interrogated by the FBI, want to avoid further dealings with law enforcement. These friends also said from time to time Jahar carried a gun when packaging his weed. He was conscious of the value of his product and also often had large sums on his person.

In other ways, too, he was brazen about his pot-selling business, almost daring intervention by authorities. Jahar kept a scale in his desk, and would often bag marijuana on a table with the door open to strangers, said his roommate.

It was obvious to Rowe that Jahar was running a lucrative business. He said Jahar often returned from shopping trips in town with big bags. Steve said Jahar had often smoked weed in high school but never considered dealing it, for fear of getting caught and jeopardizing his standing on the wrestling team.

He was the beloved captain who never missed a practice or a match. Jahar was also remembered in high school as a fast driver, but in college he took his recklessness to new limits. A lit cigarette in hand, Jahar loved to imitate the racecar drivers he so admired and accelerate his green Honda Civic to nearly miles an hour, according to several close friends.

Once, when his car was jammed with passengers, he stuffed a friend in the trunk rather than leave him behind. Another stunt both impressed and slightly terrified his friends: Jahar sometimes turned corners with the steering wheel between his knees, leaving his hands free to roll a joint. Jahar also attracted friends in college who shared his interest in tripping on psychedelic drugs, such as acid and mushrooms, according to several friends. His inner circle in college was strikingly diverse; they were mostly foreign students or first-generation immigrants with roots in Africa, central Asia, or the Middle East.

He also began to identify more closely with his ancestry, often reminding his friends that his family was among the oppressed Chechen Muslims, a group he depicted as brutally victimized by the Russians. Minutes later, they heard a knock. A campus police officer stood outside. Such confrontations with local and campus police were hardly rare. Friends said such close calls happened as often as twice a month over issues such as speeding, raucous partying, and possession of alcohol or drugs.

With Jahar as the designated spokesman with police, however, they never got into trouble, according to several friends. Steve said Jahar was similarly spared punishment after he got into a physical altercation at an upper-class dorm party at UMass Dartmouth, which sent the male victim to the hospital for treatment. He said Jahar was questioned by someone at the school, but never got written up. Indeed, campus officials told the Globe Jahar had a clean record with them.

While most of the Boston area was applauding last week's conviction of marathon bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, his mother back in Russia was not praising the federal jury's guilty verdicts on all 30 charges.

Zubeidat Tsarnaeva responded to Wednesday's decision with a blistering indictment of America posted on the Russian social media website VKontakte, the website vocativ. A sampling of Tsarnaeva's tirade: "I will never forget it. May God bless those who helped my son. The terrorists are the Americans and everyone knows it. My son is the best of the best. The jury will reconvene April 21 for a hearing to decide whether Tsarnaev is sentenced to life in prison or death. His mother laments that her son is "in the hands of a predator preparing to tear him to pieces like meat.