With cold eyes, Prosecutor Schaefer read out the indictment she held in one hand.
“As of today, December the 7th, the prosecution charges that in the viewing platform of the Westminster hotel, Claudia Rheinland defendant herein, with systematic and methodical planning, and malice aforethought, did carry out murder of the first degree.”
First degree murder. Meaning unless proven innocent, it was death or life in prison. Whichever it was, if her guilt was decided, it was the end of her life.
“The defendant’s name is Claudia Rheinland, 18, uncertain address, nationality… nonexistent.”
Hmm? No nationality? That’s troubling.
In a normal country, in the case a foreigner committed a crime within its borders, based on international treaty, it was possible for the criminal to be handed over to their country of citizenship.
But of course, as Grimbeld didn’t have a single prisoner exchange treaty tied with another country, they wouldn’t hand foreigners over even for a minor offense, and there’s no way anyone would be tried under foreign law. Any crime that happened within the country was punished by the country as principle.
However, the sort of judgement they would receive was entrusted to the laws of their nationality.
For example, if a person from a country without a death penalty committed first-degree-murder in Grimbeld, even if their guilt was certain, the charges would adopt the administration of justice from their homeland, and the accused would not be able to be handed death.
But the situation was different for nonexistent nationality.
Prosecutor Schaefer spoke on.
“The accused is not of Grimbeldan nationality. But by the rule of equal treatment under our constitutional law, as well as the special law reserved for foreign criminals, as a special exception, the accused will be considered a citizen of Grimbeld in all further legal procedures.”
Slamming the indictment down on the desk, Prosecutor Schaefer spoke as if looking down on the defendant.
“It means there’s nowhere for you to run, little girl.”