"What happens if I get the code wrong?" he asks. 

"The cat kills you," Morrison says. 

"Ooooh," the man says, clearly believing her to be joking as well. "Ready." 

"Treble Treble C Bass," Morrison reads. 

"Mozart Schönberg Adams Bach," the man replies. 

"You mispronounced Schönberg." 

"Umlauts always give me trouble." 

"Okay," Morrison says, putting her phone away. "Checks out. We can get started." 

She's trying to pay attention so she can understand what's going on, but It's A Small World is stuck in her head because this is absolutely still a Disney ride. Trundling along, stuck in her little cart, wooden dolls prancing everywhere she looks, nobody willing to let her know what's coming up after the next turn.

"Now, Mr."--she glances at her phone--"Evan Jacobs, analyst from the CIA. Interrogation time. You have some information for me." 

"I do," Jacobs says. "The first bit involves Langston here." He says the name as though he's revealing a shocking piece of information. 

Morrison is unperturbed. "You were meant to figure that out," she tells him. "We had other identities ready to go if we wanted to be sneakier. Continue, please."

Jacobs frowns a little and continues. "Fine. You should know she's been let off the hook in the murder investigation of a federal agent. The home security video you so helpfully provided clears her entirety." 

Right, the dead guy.

"That's good news."

"For the sake of not making more work for everyone, we're going to ignore the forged government documents, which are by the way absolutely a felony that will get you up to twenty-five years." He turns to look at April. "Do us all a favor, Ms. Turnberry, and bury Langston in the backyard. If she pops up again several branches of the United States and Canadian governments will be obliged not to ignore her."  

Sarcastic snort.

"That's my advice, take it or leave it," he says in response. 

"Who were the people who planted the bomb that killed your guy?" Morrison asks, moving things along. 

"We don't know yet. It happened in Canada, and lord knows your old boss had enough enemies in North America. CSIS is taking the lead in this investigation." 

Morrison follows that up with a sarcastic snort of her own. 

"I'm sure they'll do fine. On our end we are checking with our people who we have embedded in the circles your boss existed in, but so far we're not coming up with anything." Jacobs turns back to April. "Whoever wanted you dead is being quiet about it for now." 

"My favourite kind of murder attempt," she mutters.

"It's not great for us either, especially since it was our agent that died. Regardless, that brings me to the last thing, Ms. Turnberry. Our people inside don't know who tried to kill you and got our agent instead, but we do know there is some, shall we say, intense interest about your upcoming appearance at the Lombardy Convocation." 

"Is there now."