The unravelling and the unmasking of Ping Lacson

There are two persons who monopolize the headlines these days – one a woman, the other a man. One Mary "Rosebud" Ong, the other Panfilo "Ping" Lacson. One a reported superspy who came in from the cold as in John le Carre’s novels, from the dark dungeons of crime to the sudden blinding dazzle of publicity, much of it favorable. The other, never really focused in the public mind, now a senator of the realm, earlier seen as fighting big for the presidency in 2004, now bogged down by a spate of criminal accusations and literally fighting for his life.

For present, we have had enough of Rosebud, omnivisible she is in almost all talk-shows, her China doll hair-do, gentle voice, and wide-brimmed face now familiar to virtually every household in the country. But, of course, Mary Ong has barely kicked out of the starting block, her testimony is just beginning and we’ll see much more of her when the Senate hearings resume. She is not only good as the chief witness of Col. Victor Corpus. She is knockout, every word, every gesture culled from the wizardry of George Smiley, Le Carre’s master sleuth, with languid eyes, gentle mien, but the brain a steel trap with mini-machine-gun turrets lying in wait. Ask Sen. Rodolfo Biazon.

Now we shift to Ping Lacson in good time.

Senator Lacson did something he never did before. He treated media to a five or six-course dinner at a restaurant owned by Kim (you guessed it) Wong, suspected big-time drug dealer with all the proper connections in town. Wong was identified by Rosebud as a local point-man of the dreaded Chinese Triad in Hongkong which handles drug destined for the Philippines. The drugs, they say, (unless stopped) will sooner than later transform our country into a narco-state. Which is like saying Sodom and Gomorrah will take over, not to mention the wild spill-over hordes of a drug-crazed Hannibal spewing death, damnation and destruction.

Colonel Corpus virtually swears Ping Lacson will be that Hannibal. In his mind, as in that of columnist Ramon Tulfo, Lacson is a criminal without compare, wily, greedy, ambitious, ruthless, vicious, quick to remove a man’s genitals even as he carves out his heart without blinking.

Senator Lacson presented a quite different image at that Friday dinner. It was that of a man hounded, unjustly persecuted, vilified, insulted and excoriated beyhond measure. He said: "Ngayon lang, hirap na hirap na ang katawan ko sa napasukan ko, eh. There are times I regret having entered politics . . . My career has been a long roller-coaster ride. I just don’t know this time whether I will end (up on top) or come crashing down . . . There were reports (about a smear job) that reached me, but I never thought it would be this vicious, this cruel and this wicked. I thought that after I was proclaimed (senator, right?), it would subside. It has not only continued, it has become more vicious, more cruel. Grabe!"

As though to evict the gargoyles breathing on his neck, Ping Lacson continued: "At the end of the day, I ask God that these people be enlightened. Kung puwede naman tigilan na ako. I am sure (military intelligence chief) Victor Corpus knows there is nothing. I am sure Mary Ong knows she is lying." Does he? Does she?

Almost all throughout, Ping Lacson has lived a charmed life.

But it was not a life that as he may have insinuated at dinner for the press Friday, a life of continuing good deeds, of cops and robbers with Ping as some kind of Elliot Ness, of nabbing the most notorious kidnappers although he did capture some of them. He did get Joey de Leon, a kidnapper and a criminal who feasted on foreigners. Joey, once a police asset, had become a liability. In the end, Ping Lacson became a sort of Robin Hood for the Chinese-Filipino community (Robina Gokongwei even recently coming out to testify and demonstrate in his favor and, in the past, Teresita Ang See).

This turned out to be a mixed blessing as later events would prove.

What was probably crucial was that Atong Ang entered Ping Lacson’s life. As he did Erap Estrada’s life. Atong Ang transformed the whole landscape of power into that of organized crime. Atong Ang was and remains a Chinese-Filipino with a yen for all kinds of mischief, a bigger yen for bootleg money, a reverse Midas who corrupted everything he touched, a killer and a kidnapper they say, gambler who reportedly taught Erap Estrada everything he knew about so-called games of chance, fast on his feet (that is why he managed to flee the Philippines), faster with his thieving hands, fastest with his spit-smarmy mouth which could extract venom from a cobra’s fangs. If Ramon Tulfo is right, the Triad of Erap, Ping and Atong was the Gang of Three that fleeced the Philippines of billions.

But these are speculations, allegations.

* * *

Ping Lacson as did his boss Erap Estrada got in thicker with the Chinese-Filipino community. Perhaps that was the main turning point. For it eventually led to big-time gambling and, by golly, drugs. And this was when President Fidel Ramos appointed both to the Presidential Anti-Crime Commission, the vice president as Big Boss, the latter as chief spook of Task Force Habagat. It was simply amazing to me how eventually notorious, notorious-looking and notorious-smelling Chinese-Filipinos – not the respectable Gokongwei, Yuchengco, Henry Sy groups – swarmed over to Erap Estrada and, of course, Ping Lacson. It was more amazing when Atong Ang curled up at Estrada’s feet, playing the flute, summoning, charming and enthralling all the snakes in and outside of Malacañang. The man, too, had magic, a Bruce Lee without muscle, who got along just fine with Ping Lacson, who had all the muscle. Not to mention the brains.

Between both of them, Ping Lacson and Atong Ang, the perception was that they had two Estradas in tow, one as ceremonial president in Malacañang, the other their capo di tutti cappi only too glad to strike it rich with reported billions in many banks.

Oh, we did hear a lot of stories, of closets opening and closing because dead bodies were being stuffed in them. But we never had any proof. Ping Lacson couldn’t live a charmed life that long. He was bound to make a big mistake and he did. This was in May 1995 when he and other PNP generals, Jewel Canson and Reynaldo Acop among them, were involved in the Kuratong Baleleng massacre. They could have emerged as heroes, but didn’t. After all, the eleven massacred were notorious bank robbers and killers, not just fit to be tied and quartered, but swung from the gallows. Except for three discoveries. The eleven were shot like helpless turkeys in two vans, each riddled with about five to ten bullets. There was no shoot-out as earlier claimed by the implicated generals. On top of that, all eleven were manacled or handcuffed before the massacre, which made the crime worse. On top of all that, Lacson’s agents reportedly rifled the duffel bags of Wilson Soronda in the amount of about $3 million in bank loot in a separate event. Soronda too was killed. Where did the money go?

The Kuratong Baleleng massacre has never ceased to haunt Ping Lacson. He was initially pointed to as the principal. The NBI, which conducted the first investigation, described the massacre as an "open-and-shut" case. To escape arrest, Lacson reportedly fled to New Jersey, returned only when the Office of the Ombudsman, presumably under tremendous pressure, reduced Ping’s culpability from principal to accessory. As principal, he could never be free on bail. This was just one of the many steps, reportedly the suborning of a slew of witnesses in the millions of pesos, all eventually issuing affidavits of desistance, until none was left to testify against the accused.

Now the Supreme Court is feeling the headwinds of an outraged public, seeking the High Court’s reversal of a Court of Appeals recent decision declaring the crime has prescribed after two years. The truth is there never was any arraignment because all witnesses vanished into thin air. Now there are four new witnesses. A retrial could mean Lacson’s arrest without bail. And they say this is what he fears most, the past coming back to haunt him, the ghost of Banquo certainly. Then there are the other ghosts, the ghosts of Bubby Dacer and his driver Emmanuel Corbito and Edgar Bentain. Who killed Cock Robin?

It is a baggage that comes from the Valley of the Dead. And many say Ping Lacson’s eyes are that way, never the eyes of a senator or those of an ordinary man, but eyes that have seen death too many times, eyes unflinching and eyes merciless across whose vision victims have fallen in the endless ritual of helpless men being slain by violence. Maybe that’s why it is difficult to feel compassion for Ping Lacson as he seeks to project a more human face to the public. And it is not difficult either to feel sympathy for Colonel Corpus for his eyes are avuncular, never fugitive, always authentic and unfeigned.

Ping Lacson’s woes are from over. His biggest handicap right now is that nobody fears him anymore. Even the Senate distances itself. Remember those many years when nobody dared talk about him except in whispers? Now many say he is history, a languishing predicate and not much of a subject anymore. As everything unravels, so things are unmade, from fiction to reality, including the man. It will make a great novel.