For years, art buyers have been told that this man is an internationally acclaimed, intensely private Parisian sculptor. His bold, brightly coloured plastic works are available through one Melbourne gallery, and they're selling fast. But there's a problem. The artist, Jean Paul Mangin, has no website, no social media, and no discernible presence in France. His sculptures arrive in Melbourne wrapped in a single layer of bubble wrap, just days after being commissioned. When gallery staff start asking questions, they're told he's not to be contacted directly. That's when reporter Julia Bergin steps in — following a trail of clues from the bourgeois backstreets off the Champs-Elysées to an empty graveyard in country Victoria.