Mathew smiled brightly, as he took the cup off the table, refusing to sit down. "I love mysteries. I really do. But you know what I really hate? I hate easy answers. I'm of a mind that my friend the Collector would agree with me." Mathew places both his hands on the table, looking around at the two figures present. "There is no reason to believe the true Collector would present himself anywhere near me, more so if he has any clue who I am and what I am planning. So How come every step of the way I find one practically being thrown at my face? No, you two are diversions, you're too obvious, you're too plain. I don't even believe you're an old-blood." Mathew gestures at the vampire, mild annoyance crossing his face.

"We're going to talk, of that you can be sure. But what we'll be discussing isn't business. It's the identity of the Collector. I'd like you fine gentlemen to help me brainstorm, even in your apparent unwitting stupidity." Mathew takes a sip, before throwing the cup across the room, disgusted. "Sweet Mary, what is that stuff? Liquid tar?" He sighs, before straightening out his suit. "Excuse me, I do tend to get a bit excited. You must understand. It isn't often I find a mystery so hard to crack, or a person so hard to find. Finding people is my thing, and to find someone even close to my level of skill is rather... rare. I believe your little Collector here is one of the few people who may match my understanding of the world, and as such someone whom I would like to share a rather lucrative business offer with."

The old man began to speak, only to have Mathew kick over his chair, disinterested. "Not now, you old fart. I was talking to those who can still remember their names. Hopefully, that doesn't rule out you, as well?" Mathew directs a poignant glare at the vampire. "Or at least, whatever name you choose to go by now."