Chapter 389: Who Can Judge Mr. K?

Chapter 389 -34: Who Can Judge Mr. K?

“The United States?” Stein was stunned.

“Yes,” Miller said. “It seems Betelich provided some assistance to Western intelligence agencies during the Cold War. I don’t know the specifics, but word came down from Washington. They want us to ‘handle this appropriately.'”

Stein leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

‘He understood. This wasn’t a simple trial; it was a political game. And he was just a pawn.’

“I understand,” he said.

“Good that you understand.” There was a hint of relief in Miller’s voice. “Stein, you have a bright future. Don’t ruin your entire career over a single case.”

“I’ll consider it.”

After hanging up, Stein stood in the hallway, looking out the window at the street below.

***********

「Meanwhile, in Judge Schultz’s office.」

The judge sat behind his desk, a document in his hand. There was a knock on the door, and his clerk walked in.

“Judge, it’s a call from the Chancellor’s office.”

Schulz answered the phone.

“Judge Schultz, this is Schmidt from the Chancellor’s office.”

“Hello.”

“Regarding the Betelich case, the Chancellor’s office wishes to convey a few points for your consideration.” Schmidt’s tone was very formal. “This case touches upon some sensitive issues related to the unification process. We hope the court will handle it prudently and avoid triggering any unnecessary diplomatic incidents.”

Schulz said nothing.

“This is not an attempt to interfere with the judiciary,” Schmidt added. “These are merely political considerations, for your reference.”

“I understand,” Schulz said. “The court will adjudicate according to the law.”

After hanging up, Schulz took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.

**********

「The court reconvened.」

Stein sat at the prosecutor’s table, his expression conflicted. ‘He knew what he had to do next.’

But Rosenblum had one final blow to deliver.

“Your Honor,” Rosenblum rose to his feet. “Before we proceed to closing arguments, I would like to debate the legal principles of this case with the prosecutor.”

The judge nodded. “Granted.”

Rosenblum walked to the center of the courtroom. “The prosecution accuses my client of violating the former East Germany’s Foreign Exchange Control Act and of embezzling state assets. However, I believe this accusation is legally untenable.”

“For two reasons.”

“First, the principle that law is not retroactive,” Rosenblum said. “My client’s actions between 1963 and 1990 must be evaluated according to the laws in effect at that time. And at that time, his actions were state-authorized.”

Stein rose. “The defense counsel’s logic is dangerous. By that logic, Nazi officers could also claim they were simply enforcing the laws of their time.”

“No.” Rosenblum shook his head. “The prosecutor is making a fundamental error. I never said that all actions can be excused by ‘just following orders.'”

“According to the Radbruch formula, when statutory law violates justice to an intolerable degree, that law is itself unlawful and has no legal validity.”

“But that formula has a precondition: the law must violate basic human rights.” Rosenblum looked at Stein. “I ask the prosecutor, by engaging in foreign trade and earning foreign currency, which basic human right did my client violate?”

“Did he murder anyone? Did he torture anyone? Did he deprive anyone of their life or liberty?”

“No.” Rosenblum’s voice rose. “On the contrary, he was helping those who had been deprived of their freedom to regain it.”

“Second,” Rosenblum continued, “the principle of reasonableness. Under a regime like that of East Germany, what can one expect an official within the system to be capable of?”

“We cannot expect everyone to become a martyr and openly resist the regime,” Rosenblum said. “The law can only require people to do what can be reasonably expected of them under the given circumstances.”

“My client worked within the system, but he also secretly helped political prisoners, funded dissidents, and supported the Solidarity Union of Poland.” Rosenblum looked at the judge. “This already goes far beyond what we could reasonably expect of an ordinary person.”

Judge Schultz looked from the prosecutor to the defense attorney. After a long moment, he spoke. “The legal principles raised by the defense are indeed worthy of deep consideration. The court will address them in detail in its ruling.”

“Now, we will proceed to closing arguments.”

“Before we begin the closing arguments,” Rosenblum said, “I have one final piece of evidence. However, this evidence is unique. It involves state secrets, so I cannot present it publicly. I can only request that the judge and the prosecutor view it in private.”

The judge looked at Stein. “Mr. Prosecutor, do you consent?”

Stein was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “I consent.”

The judge announced a ten-minute recess, then led Stein and Rosenblum into a private chamber.

The chamber was small, containing only a table and a few chairs. Rosenblum took an envelope from his briefcase. It was stamped with the seal of the U.S. Department of State.

“This document was delivered through diplomatic channels,” Rosenblum said. “From Washington to Bonn, and then forwarded from Bonn to the court.”

The judge opened the envelope and pulled out the document inside.

The document was a single typed page. It was unsigned, but it bore the seal of the Department of State.

The contents were brief:

Regarding Mr. Werner Betelich:

According to the records of U.S. intelligence agencies, Mr. Betelich provided vital economic and political intelligence on East Germany to Western intelligence agencies between 1976 and 1989.

This intelligence was instrumental in helping the West understand the internal situation in East Germany, formulate policy, and ultimately contribute to the peaceful conclusion of the Cold War.

In light of Mr. Betelich’s contributions to the West, the United States government hopes the German court will take this factor into consideration when adjudicating the relevant case and give it appropriate weight during sentencing.

U.S. Department of State

May 1990

Stein’s expression darkened further as he finished reading the document.

“This…” He looked up at Rosenblum. “Your client worked for Western intelligence agencies?”

“Not ‘worked for,'” Rosenblum corrected him. “He ‘provided intelligence.’ During his normal business activities, he collected publicly or semi-publicly available information and passed it to the West.”

“According to international law,” Rosenblum said, “that does not constitute espionage.”

The judge set the document down, removed his glasses, and rubbed his temples.

“This document does indeed carry significant weight,” he said. “Though it cannot be made public, it is more than sufficient as a reference for sentencing.”

Stein sat there, speechless.

‘He knew he had lost. Utterly. He hadn’t lost to Rosenblum, or to Werner. He had lost to the entire political machine.’

“Is there anything else to add?” the judge asked.

Stein shook his head.

The three men returned to the courtroom. Everyone in the gallery watched them, trying to read their expressions for a clue.

The judge sat down and struck his gavel.

“Now, both sides will make their closing arguments. Mr. Prosecutor, you may begin.”