In the rearview window of Richard Fremed’s red Toyota Corolla sit three sets of monkeys — and one set of three bears — primly covering their ears, eyes and mouths. That’s barely the tip of the iceberg. Fremed, a corporate accounting consultant, and his wife, Ellen, share their Granada Hills home with hundreds of the see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil figurine sets and and other see-no-evil paraphernalia. Even in the bathroom, monkeys gesture on a matching soap tray, tissue holder and wastebasket set.

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It was a hot and sunny June afternoon, just hours before Julie Davine’s meticulously planned 1991 wedding at the Hotel Sofitel. The huppah stood festooned in tulle with pink and white roses for the evening ceremony. Upstairs, the tuxedoed and gowned wedding party posed for photographs on the balcony of the penthouse bridal suite. Suddenly, Julie said, she saw a cloud of black smoke. “I said, ‘What’s that smoke?’ But everyone said I was being neurotic, so I dismissed it.”

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