“THEY JUST LIVED QUIETLY LIKE THAT.”
The Mosman Park neighbors are now piecing together what were once considered minor details: curtains left closed longer, lights turned on later, extended absences. At the time, no one thought it was unusual — until the whole street became obsessed with the question: what if they had paid closer attention?…👇

***************************

The headline “THEY JUST LIVED QUIETLY LIKE THAT” captures a poignant, retrospective sentiment echoing through social media and local reflections on the Mosman Park tragedy. In the affluent, tree-lined cul-de-sac of Mott Close, neighbors are now revisiting subtle, everyday observations—curtains drawn for longer periods, house lights switching on later in the day, or stretches where the family seemed less visible—that once blended into the suburb’s calm rhythm. At the time, these details registered as unremarkable in a neighborhood where privacy is respected and life moves at a measured pace. Only in hindsight, after the January 30, 2026, discovery, have they fueled the haunting question: What if someone had paid closer attention?

Reports from outlets like The West Australian, ABC News, and The Guardian describe Mott Close as a “quiet, dead-end street” in one of Perth’s most desirable areas, close to elite schools and the river. Neighbors have consistently portrayed the Clune-Goasdoue household as low-key and unassuming. One resident told media he frequently saw carers arriving and departing to support Leon Clune, 16, and Otis Clune, 14—both with high-support needs autism—but noted nothing overtly alarming. Another called the suburb “the friendliest in Perth,” where people help each other but rarely pry. No widespread accounts mention frequent disturbances, loud arguments audible from the street, or overt signs of distress that might have prompted intervention.

The family’s routine appeared outwardly stable: Jarrod Clune, 50, and Maiwenna Goasdoue (Mai), 49, were devoted parents who advocated for autism awareness on social media and managed intensive caregiving with NDIS-funded assistance. Carers were a regular presence, and the boys enjoyed activities like swimming in the family pool. Yet, friends and a former carer have since highlighted deeper isolation—chronic sleep deprivation, repeated NDIS funding battles, rejections for additional respite or services, and a growing sense of being “beaten down by the system.” One anonymous friend described the parents as feeling “increasingly isolated and unsupported,” with the boys’ challenges intensifying over time.

In the days leading up to the tragedy, no emergency calls or welfare checks were reported. The caregiver’s arrival for a scheduled visit triggered the discovery: a note on the front door urging “don’t enter” and “call police.” Inside, officers found the bodies of the four family members and three pets (two dogs and a cat) in different areas of the home. Police classified it as a suspected double murder-suicide, citing evidence of premeditation in a second, internal note detailing shared parental intent, financial instructions, and reflections on overwhelming circumstances. No weapons or signs of struggle were noted, and there was no prior police history of family violence.

Neighbors’ post-tragedy reflections focus less on dramatic missed signals and more on the tragedy’s suddenness in a seemingly peaceful setting. One local, upon seeing emergency lights and sirens, remarked it was “not what we expect to see here” in a “nice little quiet suburb.” Another expressed sadness over the close-knit community’s shock. Floral tributes appeared at the corner of the cul-de-sac, and vigils—led by groups like the Australian Neurodivergent Parents Association—honored Leon and Otis as children who “belonged” and deserved understanding.

The “what if” questions circulating online and in community discussions center on systemic rather than individual oversight. Advocates argue that better NDIS integration for mental health, more accessible respite, and reduced carer burnout could prevent families from reaching such despair. WA Premier Roger Cook called the deaths “unimaginable,” while local MP Kate Chaney described the loss as “shocking and devastating” for neighbors, schools, and first responders.

As the homicide investigation continues—reviewing timelines, digital evidence, and the notes—authorities stress compassion over speculation. The quiet life the family led was not indifference from the street but a private struggle hidden behind closed curtains. It serves as a somber reminder that profound pain can unfold invisibly, even in supportive communities, underscoring the need for proactive, accessible support.

Helplines including Lifeline (13 11 14), Beyond Blue (1300 22 4636), and NDIS counseling remain available for anyone navigating similar pressures.