As the plot thickens, Conner's expression turns solemn. The contents of that graffiti couldn't have come from Jacobs himself. Someone must've taught him. "So we're looking at a Sire who possibly had access to Jacobs either from his personal life or in the hospital." The former was simply tragic, the latter was downright sinister. He'd be the first to admit that fear of death could weigh heavily on someone given the choice of the Embrace. "Did he mention any other quotes like the one he left on the wall? Or any hints at grand goals beyond just surviving?" Cultists tended to be either just subtle enough or all to eager to share.
Conner doesn't blame Max for that drink of tequila; he could only imagine the exasperation or guilt the Kindred must feel. "We appreciate your help. And thanks for offering that cellar; that may actually be useful if it comes to containing Mr. Jacobs while we try and talk some sense into him." Which, given they had a Ventrue and a Daeva in the back pocket, could be very easy or very hard. "We'll make sure to communicate your assistance in this matter. We could use ears to the ground around this district." Especially if others like Jacobs are out and about.
Conner looks to Helen. "Were you able to make sense of that graffiti? It seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it."
failure
Looking back to Max. "I'll gladly take that key if you have it available. We have associates who are helping us with this case who we'll be meeting up with soon."