CAPTURED. Bernard C. Welch Jr., 45, convicted master burglar and murderer sentenced to 143 years to life after the 1980 killing of Washington Cardiologist Michael Halberstam; by police in Greensburg, Pa., a suburb of Pittsburgh, who followed up a routine parking violation and ended a manhunt that began May 14, when Welch and a fellow inmate escaped from a Chicago jail while he was supposedly helping federal agents prevent a breakout planned by others. Found in a stolen car and in an apartment occupied by Welch were seven pistols, seven rifles and $500,000 worth of antiques, indicating that Welch had reverted to his former livelihood; indeed, 65 Welch-style burglaries had been reported in the area.
DIED. Linden Forbes Sampson Burnham, 62, President of Guyana and authoritarian ruler of his Caribbean-rim nation (pop. 800,000) since two years before independence in 1966; during an operation for a throat ailment; in Georgetown, Guyana. Folksy and sharp-witted, with a flair for oratory, he won the 1964 election by playing on tensions between ethnic Indians and blacks and on U.S. and British fears of Marxist Cheddi Jagan, the first pre-independence Premier. Thereafter he blended leftist rhetoric, aggressive nonalignment and a socialist policy that professed economic self-sufficiency but led, partly because of depressed commodity prices, to acute shortages of even basic foodstuffs, a foreign debt of $1 billion, increasing unrest and repression and a "brain drain" of educated Guyanese from what was once one of Britain's most prosperous and attractive Latin American colonies.
DIED. Louise Brooks, 78, jazz-age actress of rare beauty and artless eroticism who animated the silents' stereotype of the flapper in such films as Love 'Em and Leave 'Em (1926), deepened and darkened her allure in A Girl in Every Port (1928) and reached her apex as Lulu, the embodiment of sexual energy and evil in Austrian Filmmaker G.W. Pabst's Pandora's Box and its sequel Diary of a Lost Girl (1929); of a heart attack; in Rochester. Unable or unwilling to accommodate to the Hollywood system, she saw her star fade out by 1940. Her crisp essays of reminiscence and criticism, collected in the 1982 Lulu in Hollywood, faithfully and unflatteringly chronicle her career.
DEATH REVEALED. Philip D. Estridge, 47, easygoing, exuberant IBM vice president and "intrapreneur" who between 1980 and 1984 moved with record speed and scant respect for sacrosanct tradition to build the company's personal computer division into a 10,000-employee, $5 billion-a-year concern with one hit product, the revolutionary PC, and one miss, the hapless PCjr, whose production was stopped last April for lack of sales; in the crash of Delta Air Lines Flight 191 near Dallas; on Aug. 2.