In the affluent, sunlit suburb of Mosman Park, Perth’s picture of suburban perfection was shattered forever on January 30, 2026, when police made a discovery that would haunt Western Australia. Four bodies—Jarrod Clune, 50, Maiwenna Goasdoue (known as Mai), 49, and their teenage sons Leon Clune, 16, and Otis Clune, 14—lay lifeless inside their Mott Close home, alongside three family pets: two dogs and a cat. What began as a welfare check by a carer escalated into one of the state’s most heartbreaking tragedies: a suspected double murder-suicide driven by despair.

Now, with preliminary autopsy results released, the full horror has emerged. Authorities have confirmed the causes of death in this devastating case, revealing a method so tragic and intimate that it has left investigators, neighbors, and the nation reeling. The family—and even their beloved pets—died from carbon monoxide poisoning, a silent, suffocating end that police say was deliberately orchestrated in the quiet hours of the night. Sources close to the probe describe a setup involving the garage or enclosed spaces, where exhaust fumes were channeled to end lives peacefully yet irreversibly. No overt violence, no struggle—just a calculated, mercy-driven act that spared physical pain but inflicted unimaginable emotional scars on those left behind.

The revelation has intensified the shock surrounding the case. Carbon monoxide, the invisible killer, leaves victims drowsy, disoriented, then unconscious—slipping away without a fight. For Leon and Otis, both living with severe autism and profound health challenges that demanded constant, round-the-clock care, the method underscores the parents’ alleged belief that this was the only way to “protect” their sons from a future without them. Friends and a former carer have repeatedly claimed the couple felt abandoned by the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS)—funding slashed, respite denied, exhaustion mounting until breaking point. “They were failed,” one carer told media, her words echoing across social platforms. “Mai and Jarrod were their biggest supporters, but the system pushed them to this edge.”

Preliminary post-mortem examinations, conducted swiftly amid public pressure, ruled out trauma, stabbing, shooting, or overdose in the traditional sense. Toxicology and pathology reports pointed unequivocally to acute carbon monoxide intoxication across all four humans and the three animals—likely exposed in the same confined area. The pets’ deaths add another layer of cruelty to the narrative: Jarrod and Mai reportedly included their furry companions in the final act, unable to bear leaving them behind or facing rehoming. Police have described the scene as “devastating,” with bodies found in separate parts of the house but consistent with a coordinated exposure.

The timeline grows more chilling with each detail. A carer arrived around 8:15 a.m. on Friday to find the infamous note taped to the door: “Don’t enter. Call police.” Inside, a second, more detailed letter—alleged to be a manifesto of despair—outlined the parents’ reasoning: overwhelming burnout, fear of institutionalization for the boys, conviction that no one could replicate their love and vigilance. The note reportedly included financial directives, cementing the premeditation. Combined with the autopsy findings, it paints a portrait of two parents who planned meticulously, choosing a method they saw as gentle yet final.

Neighbors remain stunned. Those who heard faint crying from the home around 8 p.m. the previous evening now wonder if it marked the onset of symptoms—headaches, nausea, confusion—or a last moment of distress before unconsciousness took hold. The suburb’s manicured streets, usually filled with the sounds of families and pets, now carry an oppressive silence. “It was so peaceful here,” one resident whispered to reporters. “No one saw this coming.”

Online, the reaction has been explosive. Tributes flood X, Facebook, and Reddit’s r/perth: photos of Leon and Otis from happier times—smiling boys who loved simple joys like pool swims, river walks, and sibling closeness—now juxtaposed against hashtags like #NDISFailed and #JusticeForLeonAndOtis. Carers share stories of similar burnout; advocates demand urgent reform. “This is what happens when support vanishes,” one viral post read. “Parents left alone with impossible loads snap—or worse.” WA Premier Roger Cook reiterated his description of an “unimaginable tragedy,” but pressure mounts for answers on NDIS oversight.

Homicide detectives continue their work, though the classification as murder-suicide appears firm. No ongoing community threat exists, police stress, but the emotional fallout spreads far beyond Mott Close. The pets’ inclusion in the tragedy has particularly gutted animal lovers and those who knew the family’s devotion. “Even the dogs and cat couldn’t be spared,” a friend lamented. “It shows how total their despair was.”

As autopsies wrap and toxicology finalizes, the nation confronts uncomfortable questions: How many families teeter on this brink? How did a support system meant to prevent despair contribute to it? In Mosman Park, the garage door that may have sealed their fate stands as a grim symbol—of love twisted by exhaustion, of a silent killer chosen over prolonged suffering, of four lives and three innocent animals extinguished in one heartbreaking night.

The tragedy of the Clune-Goasdoue family will linger long after the yellow tape comes down. A method so tragically “merciful” has only amplified the pain: they died together, quietly, but the echoes of their final act scream for change.