a moll confesses

What a moll. What a hypocritical, immoral, conniving, criminal bitch. I am talking about Wendy Peirce. The wife of cop killer Victor Pierce. The man she now admits organised the Walsh Street ambush murders of Steven Tynan and Damian Eyre.

Two young coppers, just doing their job. Examining an abandoned, stolen car left in Walsh Street to lure them there. And they were murdered. You read about how they died and you ache for them and their families.

Wendy Pierce, wife of cop-killer Victor, has finally come clean. She went into a witness protection programme that cost the taxpayer about two million dollars. She made video statements implicating her husband. And then she reneged. And four cop killers got off. Walked free. She had provided him with a phoney alibi. Said they had spent that night together in a Tullamarine motel. Now she admits that not true. Victor left her there to go and kill  Steven Tynan and Damien Eyre. He was the ringleader.

Wendy Pierce now says she never planned to ultimately testify against her husband. It was all part of the game. But what can expect from a gangster’s moll who admits she laughed when she say a victim of her husband’s gang being cut up with a chainsaw.  And this is the piece of trash who phoned me on this programme and  berated me for not considering the feelings of her children.

A slut who swanned around and lived for about thirty years on ill-gotten gains. Went on shopping sprees with money from armed robberies. Money taken at gunpoint from decent hard-working people. This is a woman who pleaded for a $100,000 reward – at taxpayers’ expense --for information about the execution of  her husband Victor Peirce.

After the cops had the Commodore cleaned she took it back and still drives it.

This is the woman who told me on air that if she met me in the street she would not even spit on me. And I said that if her teeth were on fire I wouldn’t piss on them.

They are such a grotty bunch. The Pettingills, the Allens, the Peirces.

Wendy Peirce is human flotsam.  Seventeen years ago this month two decent young policemen were shot dead. Blasted with a shotgun and then one, I understand, shot in the head with his own Police issue pistol.

She deserves no sympathy. She is human garbage. She had a chance to redeem her grotty life at the Walsh  Street murder trial. She didn’t. There is nothing that can be said in her defence.

The only thing now is that Wendy Peirce must live with what she knows and what she has done. Every day of the rest of her life.

Monday, October 3, 2005

©Copyright Derryn Hinch 2005