In the affluent quiet of Mosman Park—one of Perth’s most exclusive suburbs, where manicured lawns and ocean views hide everyday struggles—a family’s unimaginable despair exploded into tragedy on January 30, 2026. Four bodies—parents Jarrod Clune, 50, and Maiwenna “Mai” Goasdoue, 49, along with their teenage sons Leon, 16, and Otis, 14—were discovered inside their Mott Crescent home in what police have classified as a double murder-suicide. Now, a second handwritten letter, unearthed during the grim investigation, has laid bare a chilling decision the parents reached together in secret: to end their lives and those of their boys in a final, desperate act born of overwhelming isolation and fear.

The nightmare began around 8:15 a.m. when a carer arrived for a scheduled visit to support the two non-verbal autistic boys with severe disabilities. Instead of the usual welcome, she found a note on the door: words to the effect of “Don’t enter” and “Call police.” Emergency services rushed in to a scene described as “highly distressing.” The parents’ bodies were located in different parts of the rear property; the boys were found elsewhere in the house. Even the family pets—two dogs and a cat—lay deceased, underscoring the totality of the devastation.

Western Australia Police, led by Acting Detective Inspector Jessica Securo, quickly ruled out foul play from outsiders. No signs of forced entry, no struggle evident. A first note—brief and ominous—served as the initial warning. But it was the discovery of a second handwritten letter, structured like a formal document, that cracked open the full horror. Police disclosed that this second missive revealed a level of premeditation: instructions on how the family’s finances should be handled after their deaths, reflections on their mindset in the days leading up to the act, and clear indications that Jarrod and Mai had jointly decided to end it all. “We never thought it would end like this…” one line reportedly captured the parents’ anguish, a heartbreaking admission of how far desperation had pushed them.

Friends and supporters paint a picture of devoted parents crushed by the relentless demands of caring for two high-needs sons. Leon and Otis, both non-verbal with profound autism, required round-the-clock support. Whispers from those close to the family suggest recent cuts or denials in National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) funding had left them feeling abandoned by the very system meant to help. “They were so beaten down by the system, so isolated, so fearful for the future of their children that they could see no other way out,” one advocate said, echoing sentiments that have ignited calls for reform. The couple allegedly felt rejected at every turn, told their boys were “too difficult” to support adequately.

Jarrod and Mai were seen as loving, committed parents. Jarrod, a former Christ Church Grammar School student, had a wide circle of friends from his youth. Mai was known for her warmth and advocacy on social media for autism awareness. Yet behind closed doors, the pressure mounted. The second letter, police say, showed planning—not impulse. It outlined post-death arrangements, a final attempt to protect whatever remained of their legacy amid the chaos they felt closing in.

The affluent suburb of Mosman Park—bordered by pristine beaches like Cottesloe—has been left reeling. Floral tributes, handwritten cards, dog toys, and bowls of water line the front of the Mott Crescent home. White ribbons flutter from a nearby tree in silent vigil. Grandfather Michael Clune, who lives nearby, returned to the property days later, a devastated figure amid the cordon now lifted but the pain eternal.

Premier Roger Cook called it an “unimaginable tragedy that will ripple throughout the community and the entire state,” emphasizing the heartbreak of two innocent children lost. Opposition Leader Basil Zempilas hoped some good might emerge: clearer pathways to mental health and disability support. The Autism Association of WA urged families in crisis to reach out, stressing that help exists even when it feels impossible to find.

This isn’t just a local horror—it’s a national wake-up call. The NDIS, designed to empower those with disabilities, has faced criticism for bureaucratic hurdles and funding shortfalls. Friends claim the Clune-Goasdoue family had battled recent cuts, leaving them drowning in isolation. “When they looked for help, they were always rejected,” one source said. The tragedy has sparked urgent questions in parliament, with the NDIS Minister facing scrutiny over whether systemic failures contributed to such despair.

Leon and Otis deserved lives full of exploration and care. Leon, 16, was remembered as someone who “deserved to explore all the things the world has to offer.” Otis, 14, brought light to those around him despite profound challenges. Their parents, in their final act, believed they were sparing them a future of suffering—but the community sees only preventable loss.

Tributes continue to pour in: from school communities, neighbors, carers like Maddie Page who knew the boys’ gentle spirits. The home, once a place of family routines, now stands as a somber reminder of what happens when desperation goes unheard.

Police continue their investigation, but the second letter has shifted the narrative from mystery to tragic inevitability. A joint decision, planned in silence, executed behind closed doors. “We never thought it would end like this…” Those words haunt Perth’s streets, a plea from beyond the grave for understanding, for better support, for no other family to reach the same breaking point.

In Mosman Park’s quiet cul-de-sac, the candles burn low, but the questions burn bright. How many more families are silently crumbling? The tragedy of the Clune-Goasdoue family demands answers—and change—before another note is written in despair.