Hugh Speirs is a builder. Not just by trade, but by nature. From the ground up, he constructs
things: homes, businesses, a life. In 1986, he built something New Zealand had never seen
before: a ten-pin bowling centre, having secured the first licence to import the equipment. He
followed it with a second bowling centre, then an ice hockey rink, embodying the quintessential
Kiwi dream of hard work and enterprise. But his story takes a sharp, dark turn into a nightmare
that would consume a decade of his life, a saga meticulously documented in his searing book,
Legal Fraud and Capitalist Corruption.
This is not a dry legal memoir. It is a riveting, infuriating, and deeply personal testimony that
reads like a thriller, except the villain isn’t a shadowy figure in a back alley, but the very
institutions meant to ensure fairness: the courts, the police, and the legal profession itself. Speirs’
account of the case Speirs v. Perry Development Limited is a masterclass in how a seemingly
straightforward business deal can be weaponized into a tool for systematic asset-stripping, all
under the passive gaze of a justice system he argues is deeply flawed.
The story begins with a familiar Kiwi struggle: a battle with the Inland Revenue Department that
left the Speirs family financially vulnerable. Needing to clear debt, they entered into a deal with
Simon Perry and his company, Perry Development Limited. On the surface, it was a sale-and-
leaseback arrangement for their Greenwood Street building, with a right to repurchase. But from
the outset, Speirs sensed something amiss. He describes Simon Perry as a man who took “pages
of notes” during negotiations, not out of diligence, but as a predator cataloguing its prey’s assets.
The first major red flag was the contract signing. After weeks of lawyerly back-and-forth, the
Speirs arrived to sign the final draft, only to discover Perry had unilaterally inserted a host of
new, oppressive clauses. It was a sign of things to come. The core of the deal was lopsided: a
building valued at $1 million was sold for $320,000, with a punishing rent calculated on the
valuation, not the price. The purpose was to raise capital to build a temporary ice rink, a
feasibility test for Hamilton. Perry loaned a portion of the construction cost, creating a debt he
would later leverage with devastating effect.
The most brazen act of deception, which becomes the central mystery of the legal battle, was the
“two-contract” trick. Perry later approached the Speirs, claiming he needed to increase the
building’s valuation for a loan and asked to raise the buyback price on paper. The Speirs, advised
it wouldn’t harm them, agreed. Perry arrived on a Sunday knowing they never signed without
their lawyer with contracts that had to be signed immediately.
They signed the top copy, assuming all copies were identical. In a moment of breathtaking
audacity, Perry gathered the documents and, as Speirs describes, handed them the “correct” copy
to give to their lawyer, while he left with the altered versions. The changes were subtle but
catastrophic. The Speirs’ copy guaranteed them management of the new Auckland bowling
centre for a share of profits. Perry’s copy inserted the word “if”, “if Speirs were to be appointed”,
reducing their role to that of $10-an-hour labourers, paying their own expenses. It was a
contractual sleight-of-hand that would form the basis of the entire dispute.
The narrative of the Auckland bowling centre construction is a chronicle of deliberate
obstruction. Speirs and his brother Gordon were sent to supervise, but Perry had installed his
own men, Doug Beeching and Russell Roberts, whose primary job, Speirs contends, was not to
build, but to delay and disrupt. They withheld materials, hired inadequate equipment, and created
logistical chaos. Russell Roberts, the appointed electrician, sat idly by, later admitting in court
his job was simply “to keep an eye on the Speirs and take notes” for Perry.
The climax of this sabotage was the fabrication of the “Lipp Report.” Leonard Lipp was a
Brunswick technician who came to install synthetic lanes. After the Speirs had left the site with a
signed completion certificate, Perry miraculously “discovered” a report, purportedly from Lipp,
claiming the Speirs’ work was shoddy and required extensive, costly repairs. Speirs immediately
knew it was a forgery: the report contained fundamental technical errors and claimed Lipp had
worked on pin decks that were, at the time of the report’s writing, still in a shipping container.
This document, undiscovered until the last minute and never sworn or tested by cross-
examination, would become the cornerstone of Perry’s case.
The subsequent legal battle, which stretched for years, is where Speirs’ story transforms from a
business dispute into a damning indictment of the New Zealand justice system. Justice
Penlington, the presiding judge, allowed Perry to give extensive “oral evidence” on documents
that had never been discovered, documents that, in the case of invoices for the “Lipp work,” did
not exist. Perry claimed losses of nearly $250,000 without producing a single receipt. When
asked where the proof was, he blithely offered to run to his office and get it, an offer the judge
declined. Yet, Justice Penlington then awarded Perry a significant sum based on this very oral
testimony, stating he “preferred” Perry’s evidence, finding him more “credible.”
The judge accepted the unsworn, undiscovered Lipp Report as key evidence, while preventing
the Speirs from challenging it. He dismissed the glaring issue of the two contracts as a “simple
mistake.” When the Speirs, in a bid for a retrial, proved the signatures on the Lipp documents
were forgeries, Justice Penlington accepted Perry’s explanation that someone had “permission to
forge his signature.” It was a legal absurdity that left Speirs and his lawyers stunned.
Legal Fraud and Capitalist Corruption is more than one man’s story of loss. It is a cautionary
tale for every small business owner in New Zealand. Speirs methodically lays out what he sees
as a playbook for corrupt takeover: draft two contracts, hide crucial documents, fabricate
evidence, use the police for a forceful takeover, appoint compliant receivers, and exploit a legal
system that seems indifferent to procedural fairness and hostile to “fresh evidence” of fraud.
Hugh Speirs, the builder, has built something profound with this book. It is a monument to
resilience in the face of a decade-long ordeal, and a stark warning about the fragility of justice.
Written after a brave battle with cancer, the book carries the same fighting spirit that saw him
through the courts. It’s a raw, unpolished, and powerful cry from the heart of small-town New
Zealand, asking a question that echoes long after the final page is turned: if the law can be so
easily manipulated by those with the right knowledge and audacity, then how do we, in a small
community, ever truly get justice?
Discover the captivating works of Hugh Speirs , where his love for the sea and his extensive life experiences converge to create tales that resonate long after the final chapter.