"The defense would have you believe that Keith Rashman did not know what he was doing when he abducted Joe Hardy, beating and torturing him repeatedly for twenty-four hours. They would have you accept that he was not responsible for his actions, did not understand that what he was doing was legally and morally wrong. Yet, the evidence makes it abundantly clear that Keith Rashman was indeed of sound mind when he committed these heinous acts. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Three different people shared with us what they observed that night at O’Hare Airport. Joe Hardy, unconscious, being dragged through the airport. Each one of these people stopped to help and each one was told the same lie by Keith Rashman. If we are to believe that Mr. Rashman did not know what he was doing was wrong, how does he explain the fact that he lied, repeatedly, to cover up his actions. If he didn’t understand it was wrong, he wouldn’t lie to cover up what he was doing.

"Not only did Mr. Rashman lie to the good Samaritans who attempted to save Joe Hardy from the fate the defendant had in store for him, Mr. Rashman lied yet again, weaving another well constructed tale, when he was stopped by airport security. A lie uncovered by the testimony of the security officer who stopped Mr. Rashman that evening; a lie that was corroborated by the airport security videotapes.

"People lie to keep the truth hidden. To cover up an act or a deed they know is wrong. In Mr. Rashman’s case, to conceal a crime. The crime of attempted murder. Mr. Rashman wants you to believe, wants all of us to believe, that he did not understand murder is a crime. Yet the simple fact that he told lie after lie after lie to ensure no one could help Joe Hardy tells us otherwise.

"The various methods Mr. Rashman employed to extract a single piece of information from his victim, by inflicting pain and torture beyond comprehension, were all predetermined. Beginning with the location. Mr. Rashman drove for over two hours, transporting his victim to the most desolate, barren, uninhabited terrain he could find. Why? So, no one could hear Joe Hardy scream. In the trunk of his car, Mr. Rashman had all the tools of his trade. He was well stocked with instruments of torture and abuse. In fact, he prided himself on the brutal methods he used to get his victims to talk.

"Does this sound like a man who was unaware of what he was doing? A man who didn’t know the difference between right and wrong? No, it does not. It does, however, sound like a man who knows he is breaking the law and does so with planning and forethought. Someone who doesn’t understand the difference between right and wrong, doesn’t plan in advance. They don’t strategize the most effective ways to inflict pain. They don’t organize their acts of torture in such a way as to build on previous one, ensuring each one is more painful than the last.

"Yet this is exactly what Mr. Rashman did, prioritizing the abuses he dealt to Joe Hardy. An open flame held repeatedly against unprotected skin, resulting in severe second-degree burns and permanent scars. A heavy chain swung again and again ensuring broken ribs, punctured lungs and internal bleeding, resulting in the onset of shock. Gallons of cold water drenching an already critically injured young man, making it excruciatingly painful to simply draw a breath.

"Scorpions. Not deadly, although Joe Hardy didn’t know that at the time. Poisonous scorpions would defeat the purpose. Remember, Mr. Rashman had a very specific goal in mind. Extracting information. A dead man cannot speak. However, a man in agonizing, unbearable pain might tell their abuser what they want to hear, hoping to stop the abuse and alleviate the pain.

"You heard the expert testimony. A single scorpion sting can result in pain so severe the victim might very well prefer death, simply to escape the misery. Joe Hardy was stung by not one, but two, scorpions. If not for his amazing self-control and quick thinking, three, four, possibly five scorpions would have stung him.

"You see, Mr. Rashman had a plan. He knew if his victim was able to remain still, the chances of being stung were slim. So, in the middle of the night, with temperatures hovering near the freezing mark, he doused Joe Hardy yet again with cold water. And then he waited. He waited until Joe Hardy was shivering uncontrollably, unable to stop. It was only then that Mr. Rashman dumped the jar of scorpions over Joe Hardy’s body.

"Those are not the actions of a man who isn’t thinking clearly, who doesn’t know right from wrong. They are the actions of a man who knows exactly what he was doing. A man who was following a very carefully designed and well orchestrated plan. And he didn’t stop. Not knowing how long it would take to break Joe Hardy, Mr. Rashman had still more abuses waiting in his arsenal. Salt to be slowly and painfully rubbed into open wounds and burns. Salt, which he purchased hours earlier, obviously knowing exactly what he wanted to use it for. Something only a man who incorporates meticulously thought out strategies, would do.

"And finally, the ultimate proof that Mr. Rashman was in full control of himself, his thoughts, and his actions. Photographs. Not just one or two, but rather a multitude of photographs taken at very specific moments. Graphic pictures that you were asked to look at, to scrutinize. To you and I they are images of deeds too horrible to view even for a second. To Mr. Rashman, they are a coveted part of his resume. It is a ritual he plans for, always wanting his work to be captured on film, priding himself on a job well done.

"These actions are not those of a man who is incapable of discerning right from wrong. They are not the actions of a man who doesn’t know the difference between justice and injustice. This is not a man who doesn’t understand that there are certain kinds of behavior deemed unacceptable in our society. This is a man who inflicts pain and torture to achieve a desired outcome. A man who does so willingly, who takes great pride in his abilities. A man who thrives on the challenge of breaking the human spirit.

"Mr. Rashman knew exactly what he was doing when he kidnapped and tortured Joe Hardy almost to death. He strategized, organized and then executed his plan with the utmost precision. You must let the defense know you will not allow the blame for this despicable crime to be shifted away from the one who committed it. The person who needs to be held accountable for the choices he made and the actions he took. Tell Mr. Rashman he, and only he, is responsible for the vile acts he committed. You must find Keith Rashman guilty."

*****

Matthew Barning rose and walked to the front of the courtroom. He stared first at Keith Rashman and then turned to Frank and Joe, letting his gaze linger on them for almost a full minute. Then he started to speak.

"Craig and Keith Rashman. The doting, over-protective older brother and the hero-worshipping, adoring younger brother. Frank and Joe Hardy. The doting, over-protective older brother and the hero-worshipping, adoring younger brother. Is there any difference between the Rashmans and the Hardys? Barely. It’s there. Almost imperceptible. The latter two represent everything good and decent in our society. The former, through no fault of their own, represent just the opposite.

"The Hardys, raised in Bayport. A quaint, endearing town where parents can let their children play outside, in the fresh air, without fear for their safety. Two brothers brought up in a loving home with caring parents who taught them the difference between right and wrong. Good and evil. Justice and injustice.

"The Rashmans, abandoned by their father, left with a drug-addicted prostitute for a mother. A mother who rarely came home. A mother who one day stopped coming home at all. Two little boys, expected to fend for themselves in New York City, where it’s a daily struggle just to survive, even for adults. No guidance. No parental authority. No one to show them the way. No one to care.

"Frank Hardy doted on his younger brother, Joe. Acted as a surrogate father figure when Fenton Hardy was called away, teaching his brother all the things a young boy in small town America would need to know. Always looking out for him, protecting him from the harsh realities of the world. Sibling rivalry was unheard of. A bond developed between the two that to this day is unbreakable.

"Craig Rashman. He too doted on his younger brother, Keith. He too acted as a father figure. He too acted as a teacher for his younger brother. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of teaching his brother the ins and outs of baseball, basketball, fishing and camping. All the things the Hardys shared and enjoyed on a regular basis.

"No, Craig Rashman was instead forced to teach his younger brother about survival. Survival in a city that wouldn’t think twice about crushing him in a heartbeat. Survival in a city where only the strong really do survive. Keith Rashman learned at his brother’s feet. Learned the craft that his brother taught him. Learned the only thing his brother had to give him – survive at all costs.

"Did the Rashman’s know what they did was wrong? To beat, torture, maim another human being without so much as a second thought? To inflict as much pain as possible and do so with seeming pleasure? Obviously, we all know this is wrong. Heinous in fact. However, where did we learn this? Where did Frank and Joe Hardy learn this? At the hands of loving, caring parents.

"When those loving, caring parents are gone – nonexistent – can we expect two children who have been left to fend for themselves in a brutal city, to know the difference between right and wrong? When each day is a struggle to survive? A struggle just to make it to the next day? Can we hold it against them if not one adult in our society cared enough to step forward and mentor these two boys? To care about them? To love them?

"Craig Rashman passed on to his brother the only way he knew to survive. Keith Rashman learned a craft from his brother. Much the way Joe Hardy learned a craft, from his brother. His brother who learned from their father. A father who wanted nothing but the best for his sons. A father who raised two fine young men, any parent would be proud of.

"Can we possibly hold the Rashman’s responsible because they had no ‘Fenton Hardy’ in their lives? No one who cared enough to raise them with morals and ethics? No one who instilled in them the importance of treating others with respect? No one who taught them the value of helping others? No one who taught them the difference between right and wrong?

"No. We cannot. Frank and Joe Hardy had every advantage in life. They had the perfect childhood we all dream of. Craig and Keith Rashman were doomed from day one. They had the childhood we all fear in our worst nightmares. Our society failed them at the most vulnerable point in their lives.

"Yes, Keith Rashman beat Joe Hardy. And when he discovered Joe Hardy was the son of the man who sent his brother to prison for life, he was pushed past the point of no return. Pushed over the edge at the thought of being able to get some kind of retribution, some kind of revenge against Fenton Hardy for separating him from the brother he worshipped. What better way than to torture Fenton Hardy’s son. No longer thinking like a sane, rational person that is just what Keith Rashman did. He tortured Joe Hardy almost to death.

But did he know this was wrong? No, he did not. He was simply following in the footsteps of the older brother he worshipped and adored. Seeking some kind of bizarre justice for the one person who kept him safe, who taught him how to survive. The older brother who loved him, raised him, protected him and did not know the difference between right and wrong himself. The older brother who could not pass on knowledge that he did not possess.

"Keith Rashman is not responsible for what he did to Joe Hardy. We are. The society who turned their backs on two helpless little boys. The society who refused to show them even an ounce of sympathy or understanding. Keith Rashman learned what we taught him – there is no place in the world for kindness and compassion. And for that reason, you must find Keith Rashman not guilty."

Frank choked back the bile that rose in his throat, unable to believe what he had just heard. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins. Had Barning really just compared Craig and Keith Rashman to he and Joe? Had he just tried to place the blame for Rashman’s animalistic attack on Joe on society? Frank suddenly realized no one in the courtroom had moved or spoken since Barning had returned to his seat. It was deathly quiet and Frank knew that was not good. Glancing at the jury, he saw one woman wipe a tear from her eye and felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

As his eyes swept over the jurors, Frank could see they were indeed carefully considering what Barning had said. A few of them seemed to be visibly shaken.

Turning his head slightly, Frank looked at his younger brother and had to stifle a gasp. Joe was almost as white as the dress shirt he was wearing, making his piercing blue eyes stand out even more vividly. Blue eyes that were staring out into space, unseeing, unmoving, not blinking – reflecting only shock and disbelief.

Suddenly Frank heard the bang of a gavel and the bailiff’s voice resonating through the courtroom. "All rise."

Frank realized the judge must have given the jurors their final instructions and declared the proceedings concluded for the day. Frank stood, as did everyone around him. Everyone except Joe, who still hadn’t so much as blinked. He saw Vanessa reach down and take Joe’s arm, attempting to pull him to his feet. He saw the flash of panic in her eyes when Joe didn’t even acknowledge her and Frank quickly followed her lead, the two of them pulling Joe to a standing position.

They waited as the jurors filed out of the courtroom, some of whom were looking at Joe with compassion. It was the jurors who glanced at Keith Rashman with something close to sympathy that made Frank’s blood run cold and started a tremor deep in his soul.

The second the last juror was behind closed doors, the reporters descended on the Hardys like vultures, pushing and shoving, shouting out questions, trying to get some kind of reaction. Frank saw the situation was quickly deteriorating into chaos. Joe appeared to be in a state of shock and Vanessa was hyperventilating, on the verge of a flashback, as strangers crowded closer and closer to her, with Laura attempting to keep them at bay.

Frank sought out his father who was on the other side of Laura and their eyes locked. Fenton threw a glance at the door and looked back at Frank, who got his father’s message loud and clear. Fenton Hardy wanted to get his family out of there now. Callie had seen the exchange and also gotten the message. She turned and began making her way towards the aisle.

Quickly becoming livid at the callousness of the media, Callie purposefully strode forward, fire in her eyes, refusing to stop or be stopped. Pushing microphones and cameras aside with a force she didn’t know she possessed, Callie never broke stride, glaring at anyone who dared try to impede her progress, clearing a path for Frank to lead the rest of his family out into the corridor.

Once out in the hall, Fenton immediately herded Joe and Vanessa between himself and Frank and closed ranks. He positioned Laura and Callie in front of the young couple, who both appeared to be on the verge of emotional meltdown.

"Start walking and don’t stop for anything," Fenton instructed Laura and Callie, now having created a temporary cocoon around Joe and Vanessa. As they began to move forward, he vaguely wondered if anyone would be stupid enough to try and come between Laura and Joe. One look at his wife and he decided only someone with a death wish would try and separate this fiercely protective mother from her obviously distraught son

Joe felt himself leaving the courthouse and had no idea how he was even able to stand, let alone walk. That was when he realized he wasn’t so much walking as he was being propelled forward. Completely shell-shocked, he couldn’t seem to grasp what was going on around him.

He felt Vanessa pressed up against him, her arm wrapped securely around his waist. He knew Frank was on the other side of him, physically shoving people aside, out of their way. He saw his mother and Callie walking in front of him, so incredibly close he was afraid he would step on them. He was aware of his father’s voice, somewhere on the other side of Vanessa repeating the same two words over and over again.

"No comment. No comment. No comment."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it dawned on him that his family had formed a protective shield around he and Vanessa, not allowing the crush of reporters and courthouse groupies to get close to them. Within minutes, they were seated in the car, with the chaos and turmoil behind them, Joe in the back flanked by Laura and Frank. Vanessa up front between Callie and Fenton.

Joe sat, shocked and overwhelmed, as it hit him that Matthew Barning had just taken the one relationship he cherished more than anything in his life and used it against him. He could hear Laura talking to him, the words fuzzy and unclear. Although he didn’t understand what she was saying, he found comfort in the low, soothing sound of her voice. It was the way she used to talk to him when he was a little boy and came running to his mother scared and afraid, looking for a safe haven. He felt Frank gently rubbing his back, another ritual begun in childhood to make Joe feel safe and protected, sheltered from the sometimes harsh realities of life.

Joe could hear someone crying softly, the achingly familiar sound tearing at his soul.

His heart told him to hold his fiancée, to comfort her just the way he was being comforted, but he felt as if he couldn’t move. Joe tried to reach out to her, at least he thought he did, but his body wouldn’t obey the commands his brain was sending and he wondered if he were in shock. He heard Frank’s voice telling him Vanessa would be all right, Callie would take care of her and he felt a strange sense of relief.