I found it interesting that Daphne is present in this scene from "The Last Time I Saw Maris", and wondered how she would have secretly been feeling about the events that unfolded.


I was stood in the front room of Niles and Maris's mansion as an air of restrained panic filled the room. I had been here before but this time the tone was too solemn to appreciate its gothic beauty.

Mr. Crane was on the phone with his friends from the local police force as Frasier entered.

"Alright, what's going on?" he asked.

Mr. Crane responded: "Maris is really gone, I'm on the phone with the station right now."

"Apparently she just vanished, no note, nothing" I chimed in with the little I knew of the situation. I knew Mrs. Crane was tricky and eccentric but to just up and leave? Well I'd never heard of such a thing!

Suddenly the double doors flung open and Niles came in… Poor thing was out of his wits with worry, stumbling into his brother's arms. I asked if he'd heard any news but he responded in the negative, rambling something about a minivan. I'd never seen him like this before and I couldn't help but share in his emotion.

Glancing around the room to distract meself I had a horrible vision of Mrs. Crane when glancing at one of the pokers. I picked it up sensing a strong psychic vibration.

"Oh, dear me... I don't want to alarm you, Dr. Crane, but I'm getting a very strong vibration off this."

"Oh, dear God."

"I can see Mrs. Crane. She's waving this poker around and screaming, "You thief! Get out! You'll never get away with this!"

I didn't like to be the one to break the news but as me Grammy Moon always said this was the burden of being a Moon woman.

"Wait... no, I remember. That's what she said to the decorator when he tried to double-bill her for the andirons."

I sighed a breath of relief for both of our sakes: "I was wondering why the intruder was wearing Toreador pants."

A few moments later Mr. Crane began to speak, running over the details with the police. Missing for three days… Thin… VERY thin. Caucasian… VERY Caucasian… Some murmuring led to what we'd all feared, something bad had happened to Mrs. Crane, her credit cards were being flaunted all over New York.

"Armani... Valentino... Cartier... Tiffany..." he called out as the police listed the charges.

"Any restaurants?" Niles asked.

"Not a single one."

To my surprise Niles leapt up in triumph: "SHE'S ALIVE!"

"Oh, Niles! You're certain!" Frasier called out.

"Oh, yes! From that list, she's recreating her infamous 'Sakes alive, I'm thirty-five' shopping spree!"

The colour drained back into his face and the vigour returned to his voice in an instant. She was a peculiar woman but he really did love her…

"Oh Dr. Crane, I'm so relieved!" I said in earnest.

"Oh, so am I. I'm exhausted. I was so scared…"

The emotion in his words were more than a little obvious, and as the gravity of the situation sunk in the room fell silent. I thought about the pain this woman had put him through, and I could see from the expression on Frasier's face that he was thinking the same thing but he just stood there silent.

Oh for heaven's sake! He doesn't shut his yap to half of Seattle every day with his tid-bits of advice, isn't he going to say something now when his own brother is the one being mistreated?

I knew it wasn't my place.

"Frasier? What's wrong? You look positively uncelebratory. Aren't you glad Maris is O.K.?" Niles clearly also picking up on the general vibe.

"Of course I am. It's just that... well, here you are, panic-stricken and scared to death, and she's off on some shopping trip! Don't you find that the least bit upsetting?"

Mr. Crane tried to interfere but I found myself for perhaps the first time wishing he would pipe down. Frasier was right. Who did this woman think she was treating poor Niles this way?

I couldn't help but cast my mind back just a couple of years when I'd last been here. Alone with Niles. The atmosphere very different… Warm… I remembered as we laid down beside this very fireplace and he comforted me in my heartbreak over Eric. He was such a kind man, I had felt lucky to have shared the evening with him and could scarcely imagine any woman feeling differently… I remembered as he'd broken off into sweet words of love about this very same wife who seemed to hurt him at every opportunity without ever appreciating what she had.

I knew she didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of this sweet, sensitive man's adoration. He deserved someone better, someone who knew a good thing when she had it.

I knew it but I dare not speak, I was just the hired help, so I sat holding my tongue and let Frasier be my mouthpiece as he thundered on in the background.

"Oh, she's not being eccentric. She's being arrogant and selfish!"

I remembered having come here to help Niles prepare a lavish meal to please this horrible woman after a fight that, from the sounds of things, she had started. Like always.

Is this really what he felt he deserved? Did he think this was the only love he could ever have? Playing whipping-boy to one of the coldest and meanest women I'd ever had the displeasure of meeting?

I wished I could say what I truly felt but was interrupted by a loud smash. I looked over in alarm. In his argument with Frasier, Niles had picked up and smashed one of the home's beautiful ornaments on the floor. Then before I knew it another, and another which went hurtling by me into the fireplace.

I darted a look at Mr. Crane who was also clearly in shock.

"Whoa! O.K., all right, Niles, now you got it out of your system!"

"Yes, but it felt so good! Let me do one more!"

I sat stunned and watched as he continued to smash up the home in what seemed like one of me Christmas's back in England with dad drunk on Fosters and mum yelling at me for not stuffing the turkey properly, while Nigel and Peter drew fake moustaches on poor Grammy Moon's sleeping face.

Out of nowhere headlight beams lit up the driveway.

"Oh my God it's Maris!" yelled Martin, sparking yet another shouting match between the Crane men. For a family of psychiatrists and policemen how could they have such little control?

Niles, the poor dear in a state of panic, suggested his brother smash him over the head with a vase so they could pretend there'd been a break in. Frasier interjected again and echoed my own thoughts.

"Niles, Niles, stop it! God, you are the damaged party here, not Maris!"

"But-but-but-but the mess!"

"This mess is the physical manifestation of years of repressed anger! It's time to draw a line in the sand and say, "I have enough!" My God, man, show her your mess!"

"You're right. It's time I told Maris I will not tolerate this behavior. I'm going up there and I'm going to demand an apology!"

"Good for you!"

As Niles marched up the stairs and vanished around the corner I felt silently proud of him…