SOMETHING STRANGE is going on at Pagani Automobili. This is an outfit about the size of a Jiffy Lube, doing business on the Via dell'Artigianato—"the street of artisanal craftsmanship," if I parse it right—in Modena, the heart of Italian supercar country.

In my two days at atelier Pagani, I did not see 20 souls. There's Luca, the press guy; a couple of receptionists; a few workers here, a couple of sons there; and Mrs. Pagani, who clicks across the polished floors in Milanese death heels. Where the hell is everybody?

Everybody...