The affluent suburb of Mosman Park in Perth was rocked on the morning of January 30, 2026, when the bodies of a family of four—Jarrod Clune, 50, his partner Maiwenna Goasdoue, 49, and their teenage sons Leon, 16, and Otis, 14—were discovered inside their Mott Close home alongside three deceased family pets: two dogs and a cat. What police initially described as a “devastating tragedy” quickly evolved into a suspected double murder-suicide, with homicide detectives treating the deaths of the boys as homicides allegedly committed by their parents before the adults took their own lives.

The discovery began when a support worker, arriving for a scheduled caregiving appointment, found a note taped to the front door with words to the effect of “don’t enter” and “call police.” The carer immediately alerted authorities, and officers entered the property around 8:15 a.m. to find the four family members deceased in different areas of the home. No immediate cause of death was released publicly, but the scene prompted a major response from Western Australia Police, including forensic teams and the homicide squad.

Central to the investigation were handwritten notes left at the scene. The first, the exterior warning note, served as a grim alert. But a second, more detailed letter found inside the home proved pivotal. This document, structured as a formal letter, outlined the family’s final wishes—including instructions on the disposition of finances and assets—and indicated a level of premeditation. It expressed the profound overwhelm the parents had been experiencing, detailing their mindset in the lead-up to the act and suggesting a joint decision to end their lives and those of their children.

However, recent developments have shifted focus dramatically. Police handwriting analysis on this second letter reportedly matches Jarrod Clune’s writing, leading investigators to conclude he may have been the sole orchestrator of the plan. Sources close to the case indicate that while the note appeared to reflect mutual agreement, not everyone in the family may have consented to the tragic course of action. This revelation has intensified scrutiny on the dynamics within the household and raised haunting questions about coercion, despair, and isolation in the final days.

The Clune family had been navigating immense challenges for years. Both Leon and Otis lived with severe, non-verbal autism and significant health issues that required ongoing care. School records and old newsletters portray the boys as cheerful and social in their earlier years, enjoying friends, activities, and family time. Yet as they grew into teenagers, their needs intensified, with one reportedly facing expulsion from school and being labeled harshly by some. Friends and relatives described the family as increasingly isolated, feeling abandoned by “the system”—including inadequate support from disability services, the NDIS, and broader community resources. Maiwenna and Jarrod, once active in their professional and social circles, had withdrawn, pouring everything into caring for their sons amid mounting exhaustion and despair.

Maiwenna Goasdoue, originally from France, and Jarrod Clune had built what appeared from the outside as a loving, devoted unit. Online profiles showed no overt signs of crisis, only glimpses of family life. Yet behind closed doors, the strain was unbearable. The parents’ decision—whether joint or driven primarily by Jarrod—extended to the family’s pets, whose deaths added another layer of sorrow to the scene.

Western Australia Premier Roger Cook described the incident as an “unspeakable tragedy,” while Disability Services Minister Don Punch and others faced immediate questions in parliament about gaps in support for families with high-needs children. Calls grew louder for enhanced mental health resources, respite care, and systemic reforms to prevent such outcomes. Community vigils, including one at Gibbon Park attended by about 50 people days after the discovery, reflected collective grief and a search for understanding.

The second note’s contents, while not fully disclosed publicly due to the ongoing coronial inquiry, allowed police to classify the case as a double murder-suicide rather than a quadruple suicide or other scenario. Handwriting confirmation tying it to Jarrod has prompted deeper examination of his role, including whether external pressures, untreated depression, or a sense of hopelessness drove him to act unilaterally. No evidence of foul play from outside parties has emerged, and the investigation continues with a report being prepared for the coroner.

Tributes have poured in for the boys—Leon remembered as energetic and kind, Otis as gentle and affectionate—and for their parents, who friends insist loved them fiercely despite the unimaginable choice. The family’s extended relatives, including Jarrod’s father Michael Clune, who was seen returning to the home after the cordon lifted, continue to mourn privately amid public speculation.

This case has cast a stark light on the hidden crises facing caregivers of children with profound disabilities. In a nation that prides itself on support systems, the Mosman Park horror underscores how isolation, burnout, and perceived lack of help can lead to irreversible despair. As Perth heals, the names Jarrod, Maiwenna, Leon, and Otis Clune serve as a somber reminder of the urgent need for compassion, better resources, and early intervention—lest more families slip into silence behind closed doors.